


Our Happy Ending Book 1

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bloodplay, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Masturbation, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-19
Updated: 2008-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-26 11:33:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10785930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Everyone wants a happy ending. Some feel they deserve it, and others are amazed to get one. Even so, hardly anyone gets the happy ending they were expecting.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** This story is co-authored by Wizzart.

Weasel,  
I've been noticing some things. I've come to the  
conclusion that, as much as I hate to admit it,   
you and I might be able to help each other.   
Time and place is up to you, but we should talk.  
Pansy

Ron stuffed his hands in his pocket and felt Pansy’s crumpled note. _What was she playing at?_ He didn’t trust the Slytherin princess for anything. Nevertheless, he wanted to get to the bottom of the little game he was sure she was playing and waited down the corridor from Potions class for her. He saw her approaching and suddenly realized how much she had changed since he last bothered to really look at her. Pansy moved with a confident, elegant gait toward him and her hair was now long and glossy. She actually looked quite fetching. _Too bad she’s a Slytherin, and Draco’s lap dog_ , he mused.

Pansy was tired of waiting in the corridor for the Weasel’s last class of the day to get out, and she was glad to see the door swing open and the students begin to file out. _The sooner I can get to the bottom of this, the better_ , she mused, thinking of her breakup with Draco, and her suspicions about who he might now be dating. Ron could help her figure out whether it was that Brown bint, or someone else, without raising suspicion. Pansy chewed her lip nervously, looking for Ron’s garish head amongst the students who were leaving the class. When Pansy saw him approaching, her gaze ran up and down his powerful, masculine form almost involuntarily, as if she were taking him in for the first time. She shook her head a bit, focusing on the task at hand. 

 

“Ron,” she said, calling him by name for the first time as he approached, “Let’s take a walk,” and she gestured down the corridor towards the courtyard. 

 

Ron nodded and fell in step with Pansy as they ascended a staircase from the dungeon. He tried not to notice how lovely she smelled because it was rather distracting from the distrustful mood he was suddenly fighting to maintain. 

 

“So,” he began, “you said we might be able to help each other out…what makes you think I need your help?” 

Pansy snorted derisively, and a thousand insults about Ron’s breeding, manners and choice of friends fought for dominance on the tip of her tongue. She bit them all back, knowing full well that she would get nowhere by insulting Ron – it would just be the same old word play, and she would get nothing accomplished. 

“I think there might be... scandal in your house, and I hope that, together, we can discover who is behind it, and do something about it before it becomes too... widespread.” At that last, Pansy stopped up short for a moment, because she’d caught herself looking at Ron quite shamelessly in the time they had been walking together. She straightened up and kept walking, trying to conceal her blushing. 

Ron paused as Pansy fell behind him a bit and regarded her curiously, _was she blushing?_ “Scandal you say?” Ron questioned trying not to sound too interested. “’Er, well maybe...but that is the sort of thing is more of Ginny’s area of expertise.” Ron stopped walking when they reached an archway by the courtyard and his hand brushed against her hips. He jerked it back, maybe too quickly, and said, “Right, you also said I could help you…” 

Pansy felt a cold rush of nervous energy coursing through her when Ron touched her hip, and she suddenly felt overheated. Why the bloody hell was the Weasel affecting her like this? Pansy thought it might have something to do with being dumped by Draco, and thinking of that, she recalled the task at hand. _Focus_. 

“Draco Malfoy broke up with me,” Pansy said flatly, as if she were pronouncing that the sky was orange or that magic didn’t work any more. She hardly believed it herself sometimes, but here she was, no longer Malfoy’s girl. “I think he is dating someone in your house, and he wanted to keep it a secret so he didn’t tell me. And...” Pansy bit her lip briefly, considering her words, “there are others in your house who might be more keen on the gossip, it’s true, but the disadvantage of gossips is precisely that – they talk. I don’t want anyone to know that I’m asking around, and it will be easier for you to find out if my suspicions are true than you think.” Pansy looked Ron up and down, and went on. “People respect you, Ron. You’re a hero. If you ask a few questions, people won’t get suspicious.”

Ron felt a rush of pride at Pansy’s compliment, but he chose to brush it off to Slytherin cunning and then decided to focus on Draco. “So, Malfoy broke up with you and you suspect he is dating a Gryffindor. Right. Well, I can’t imagine anyone in _my_ House wanting to sully herself with him…” Ron then looked quickly at Pansy, realizing his last comment was rather insensitive. “…’er but well, I suppose he wouldn’t want anyone in _your_ House to find out about it if that is the case.” Ron shifted his weight and glanced out over the courtyard. “I suppose I’d get some satisfaction from making the slippery git sweat. But what else is in it for me?” 

Pansy’s lip curled in anger at Ron’s jibe, but she continued. “I’m rich, you silly git.” She said, trying not to laugh at her statement of the obvious. “If you wouldn’t mind accepting presents from a member of a dishonourable and sullied house such as mine, I’d be happy to buy you some things you need. Or even, get you something you want.” At this last, Pansy couldn’t help a smirk. _Bloody hell, am I mental? I’m flirting with Ron Weasley_. 

Ron scowled, he really didn’t like the idea of being bought by Pansy, but part of him hoped that she was being sincere and that it really was her way of expressing her gratitude for his help. Ron looked away and concentrated on rearranging his face into a more pleasant expression. He ran his hand through his hair and looked Pansy in the eye. He opened his mouth to speak, but words escaped him for a moment as he took in her creamy skin, her sultry hazel eyes and the elegant curve where her neck met her shoulder. 

Ron felt his heart pound fiercely in his chest as he focused on that spot and unconsciously drug his teeth across his bottom lip. Then he forced himself back to their conversation, “Right, well, that sounds…reasonable. You’ve obviously given this some thought. What do you have in mind to make Malfoy squirm?” 

 

Pansy met Ron’s gaze as he looked her over and his roving eyes made Pansy feel better, because if he appreciated her looks enough to stare at her like that, she knew she could use that attraction to her advantage. _Just don’t let him catch you staring, or he’ll know he has the same_... Pansy leaned back against the archway and planted the sole of one shoe against the cold stone, bringing her knee up. She put her finger in her mouth and bit it, thinking about all the ways she’d like to embarrass Malfoy for leaving her, after all this time. Finally she looked up and said, “Ask around. You shouldn’t have any trouble getting the girls in your house to speak to you.” Pansy looked at Ron again, smirking. 

Ron’s gaze fell to Pansy’s knee and his eyes traveled up the outline of her thigh beneath her skirt. His eyes continued up her body until they came to rest on her finger in her mouth. _Fuck, was she doing that on purpose?_ Ron took a step back and crossed his arms, leaning against the opposite arch, trying to decide if Pansy was being sincere. “And how do you propose I go about asking around?” he queried.

“Play the knight in shining armour, protecting the virtue of the Gryffindor witches from the foul clutches of the Ferret.” Pansy laughed at that, thinking of Ron standing at the portrait that led to his common room, fending off Malfoy with a gaggle of frightened Gryffindor girls behind him. “If my suspicions are correct, word will get back to Malfoy, and whomever he’s dating might be scared enough to break it off, so I can... try to get him back.” As she said the words, Pansy suddenly debated their importance for the first time in her life, and she tried to conceal her confusion from Ron.

Ron frowned, _protecting the virtue of Gryffindor witches indeed_ …he’d never trust Mafloy. “So, you want him back, then?” He asked feeling a twinge of jealousy that he didn’t understand. Ron glanced out at the courtyard again and shook his head slightly. Against his better judgment he agreed to make the leap and work with Pansy on this one. He stepped toward Pansy and while eyeing her up and down slightly said, “All right, Miss Parkinson, I’ll help. I’ll wager you’ve given this some thought…what now?” 

For a fleeting moment, Pansy felt an urge to pull Ron against her, to feel him pressing her against the wall... _Bloody hell, whatever is happening to me, I hope there is a potion for it_. “Now, you talk to a few witches in your house. Start with the fifth and sixth years, they will be more likely to speak to you. Word will get around that you’re asking around, and since it’s you asking, you should get results by bedtime.” Pansy dropped her leg and stood up straight, smoothing out her skirt. She approached Ron, and stood closer to him than she ever had before. _Gods_ , but he was tall, and she felt warm when she got closer. “Then, we should get back together and compare notes. Meet me on the pitch tomorrow before dinner, we’ll throw the Quaffle around and maybe go have dinner in Hogsmeade.” _Did I just ask Ron Weasley out? Fuck. Definitely mental_. 

Ron nodded in agreement. He still doubted her sincerity but was willing to go along if it meant making Malfoy at all uncomfortable, and truth be told, he wouldn’t mind the opportunity to let his eyes roam over her Quidditch clothing. “I didn’t know you played Quidditch, but, yeah…I’d love to have a go…and as for dinner, well, I’m always hungry.” Ron then clutched his books tightly, as he had to channel the sexual tension he felt somewhere, and started off for the courtyard calling over his shoulder, “tomorrow then.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Pansy was waiting on the edge of the pitch, trying desperately not to pace. It was reminiscent of the first time she’d met Ron, only this time butterflies had replaced the sour knot in her stomach. So much had changed in a week; so many suspicions and promises. She picked at her flying robes distractedly as she waited.

 

In the beginning, she’d thought to conspire with Ron, to keep Draco after he’d ended it with her, only to feel her attentions shift suddenly. Pansy hoped that Ron wouldn’t think she was fickle, taking an interest in him so soon after her official break up with Draco.

 

Pansy’s parting with Draco really hadn’t been so sudden; at least it hadn’t been to her. He could have contacted her in any number of ways this last year, or before school began, but he had not. How could he expect her to go a whole year without hearing from him? His silence made his choice clear to her. Pansy had seen Draco’s rejection of her coming, but it still didn’t make it hurt any less. It all came down to his silence, which made his intentions all too clear... No owls. No Floo calls. It really felt like they’d broken up midway through sixth year, when they’d stopped shagging, but she was only just now getting the owl to tell her so.

 

Pansy found that she’d started to pace again in her reverie and she came to a stop abruptly. She suddenly remembered her Shakespeare, from the Drama Club she’d been in during the summers when she was younger.

 

“Oh, Ron, wherefore art thou Weasley?   Deny thy poverty and refuse thy humility; or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Pureblooded snob.” Pansy laughed at the absurdity of it, but she went on, reciting Juliet’s plea for reconciliation, which so closely mirrored her own feelings.

 

“'Tis but thy status that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a traitor. What's Weasley? It is neither hand, nor foot, nor bloody gorgeous arse, nor any other part belonging to a wizard. O, be some other name!   What's in a name? That which we call a Weasley, by any other name, would be just as shaggable...“

 

Pansy laughed again, and sat down beside her broom and the bag that held her clothes.

“Ron Weasley,” she began out loud, “pauper, blood traitor, Gryffindor prat... I’m falling for you.” Pansy shook her head. “How in the bloody _hell_ did that happen?”

 

From within his room, Ron applied a little of one of the colognes that Pansy had sent, he wasn’t sure which one, but it smelled sort of spicy and clean.  He then fastened the cloak from Pansy, appreciating the fine tailoring and the warmth it gave without being bulky.  _Gold_ , he thought.  _Must be nice to have loads of it._   He did feel a bit emasculated by receiving presents from Pansy, but she had promised to do so in exchange for his help. He also was starting to believe that she was genuine, (well, he almost believed it, some guards take a long time to fall) in her intentions toward him.  Especially since she had divulged her initial reasons for owling him… to get his help finding out whom Draco was now dating. He may not have gone along with it, but he still didn't like the smarmy git, and any chance to expose or embarrass the Ferret would suit Ron just fine.

 

 

Ron approached the pitch, he saw Pansy pacing, and it sounded like she was talking to herself.  As he came closer he thought he made out the words, _shaggable…blood traitor…Gryffindor prat…falling for you…bloody hell…_

 

Ron stopped to consider the conflicting mix of words.  What were her intentions anyway?  But blood flooded up to his face and down to his loins at the _shaggable…falling for you_ part. He’d definitely spent more time awake at night than was good for him thinking about doing all sorts of wickedly pleasurable things to her.  Ron’s confidence shot up a notch and he decided he might just test the waters tonight.  He then remembered the last owl she had sent in which she closed by asking him to give her a big hug the next time he saw her.

 

Pansy stood bolt upright at the sound of approaching footsteps and prayed to the Gods that it was Ron. When she saw the redhead’s tall frame come into view, a wave of relief – and something else – washed over her. He looked _good_ in his Quidditch robes, even though they were that gaudy Gryffindor scarlet and gold. Pansy continued to look Ron over, unabashed in her open appraisal of him as he approached, and stepped towards him as he neared the edge of the pitch.

 

“Are you ready to have circles flown around you?” she asked, grinning as she came closer to Ron.

 

Ron smiled warmly, and stood directly before Pansy.  He took in her appearance; she looked so crisp and alive.  As much as he hated to appreciate the green and silver she was wearing, it made her dark hair stand out.  He really couldn’t wait to run his fingers through it, and then he remembered something she had asked him to do…

 

Without replying to her playful remark, he dropped his broom and pulled her into a tight embrace.  Her head came just below his chin, and he wrapped his big arms around her back.  His fingers stroked the length of her hair, so sleek and soft.  He exhaled and felt her body sink into his.  It was heavenly to have her pressed against him.  Even through the layers of clothing he could tell she was lithe and strong.  His hands slid down her sides to the small of her back.  He appreciated the curve in her waist and the swell of her hips.  He couldn’t stop his hands from gripping her hips ever so slightly and pulling them closer into his before he released his grasp and leaned back so he could look into her face.  

 

“Feeling better now, I hope?”  Ron asked sincerely. 

 

Pansy nearly swooned at the sensation, being pulled into Ron’s embrace at last. She relaxed as he gathered her into his arms, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world, that the two of them should embrace like long lost lovers. She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him against her as his hands roamed over her. Gods, his hands were barely moving and yet, they seemed to be _everywhere_... Pansy exhaled against Ron’s neck gently and smelled the cologne she’d given him as she breathed in again. Oh Gods, it smelled positively _dreamy_ on him... She felt arousal stir within her, thick and heady, and she wondered if Ron could feel her nipples hardening underneath her Quidditch robes.

 

Pansy turned her head up to answer him, looking into those brilliant blue eyes, so warm and concerned, so unlike a pair of hard, grey eyes.

 

“Much,” Pansy replied, hoping her voice wasn’t quavering too badly with lust. “I really needed that, Ron. Thank you.” 

 

Pansy turned her head to the side and laid her cheek against Ron’s firm chest, leaning into his embrace again for a moment longer before she stepped away, with their hands still on one another’s waists. She looked up into his eyes again, searching for something.

 

Ron looked down into Pansy’s deep hazel eyes.  The way she had melted into him made him feel validated and bold.  While she was still clinging to his waist, he didn’t want her to step away from him so he tugged her hips back into his and then ran his hands up her back until they cradled her head.  Ron slid his hands around to cup her face, and leaned down to capture her lips with his.  The kiss was soft, at first, as he gauged her response.  

 

When he felt her kiss him back he allowed himself to really take her in.  His hands slid up over her ears and back into her hair, his fingers snarling the silken stands as he gripped her more tightly.  She smelled just perfect, feminine and alluring.  Ron’s mind raced ahead of his actions, he pictured himself disrobing her, watching her pant with anticipation, and then being able to run his rough hands over her tender flesh.  He could see himself moving over her and tasting the salty sweetness of her skin.  He could see her face, the expression of ecstasy caused by his movements. Then before he could stop himself, he parted her lips with his tongue and tasted her for the first time. 

 

Pansy allowed her body to respond to Ron’s, pressing against his muscular frame fearlessly as he tugged her back against him. She kept her hands on his waist and then he was holding her face and he was _kissing her_ , softly... Pansy moaned into Ron’s mouth, kissing him back, tilting her head up into his kiss.

 

Pansy felt like she was going to melt, or explode, she didn’t know which because Ron was so warm and powerful and _there_ , his hands in her hair and tongue in her mouth... Pansy’s tongue met Ron’s in her mouth, accepting it, dancing and darting and playing, ever the serpent. Pansy’s hands gripped the sides of Ron’s Quidditch robes hard, pulling him in further, pressing her chest against him and delighting in all the contact she could with his lithe body. She swept her tongue over his teeth and smiled through the kiss for a moment, chuckling, so glad to have him.

 

Ron felt her smile, and then opened his mouth further, inviting Pansy’s tongue to continue toying with his.  They had been kissing only moments and he already appreciated her talent.  Then he felt her press her bosom into his chest and heard her moan against his mouth.  It drove him spare, and he swore to himself to do whatever it took to keep eliciting noises like that from her.

 

Ron released his grasp from Pansy’s hair.  He briefly rested his hands on her shoulders before sliding them between the two of them to unfasten the clasps of her cloak.  He slid it from her shoulders and then moved his hands up to let the back of his fingers glide down the exposed skin of her neck.  His hands moved slowly down to feel the swell of her breasts, and his lips left hers to follow his hand’s descent.  He trailed kisses along her delicate jaw and then down her neck.  As her head fell back, he explored her graceful neck, _she tastes so good._ He wanted to taste all of her, and he offered a silent prayer that she would be willing to let him do just that.

 

Pansy sighed contentedly as Ron slipped her cloak off. She hadn’t worn her full flying robes, and thank Merlin for that, because the things that Ron was doing to her _neck_ with his _mouth_ were nearly worth skiving off this practice for... Pansy tangled her hand in Ron’s hair, pressing his lips against her skin more firmly, feeling his strong hands on her breasts. _If he couldn’t feel how excited I am before_ , she thought, _he can sure feel it now_. Pansy moaned, and panted shamelessly, undulating against Ron’s ministrations. _I’m going to fuck Ron Weasley_ , she thought, turning her head to look down into his mischievous eyes, and she laughed out loud again.

 

“ _Fuck_ , Ron, that’s good,” Pansy breathed and grinned wickedly. “Your turn.” She reached up with both hands and undid the clasp on his cloak, the cloak that she had sent him, and smiled up at him. She piled it on the ground next to where hers had fallen, and pulled him down into a fierce kiss, attacking his mouth possessively, and just as soon as the tongues were getting interesting she broke the kiss and pulled his head down so she could ravage _his_ neck. Pansy trailed her mouth across his jaw line, nipping and biting lightly as much as she kissed, tasting the warm flesh of his sinewy neck with broad strokes of her tongue.

 

Ron felt a fever burning inside him, Pansy was making his mind weak, and the promise he'd made to himself, the promise that he wouldn't ruin anything by shagging her too soon, was going to be hard to keep.  They were only kissing and already his body was putting up quite an argument.  He bent his head to find Pansy's lips again, and gave her a kiss.  Then, trying to breathe normally he said, "I thought we were here to fly, or are you just afraid I'll kick your arse and you're trying to keep me from that?"

 

Pansy felt exhilarated, and she laughed at Ron's jibe. When had she felt this happy? Even with everything looming over her, when she was with Ron, she felt as if her problems scarcely mattered. That was his genius. Pansy turned and bent to gather her broom from the ground where it lay beside her bag. She knew the flying robes didn't show too much, but she could feel Ron's eyes roving over her bum nevertheless and she didn't care. She _wanted_ him to look. Pansy turned to face Ron. "In your dreams, Weasley," she said, in her best mocking tone from the hallways of times past. 

 

Pansy mounted her broom and hovered, barely skimming the ground, floating close to Ron. "Come on then, let's do some drills. We'll start with the basics, so you can keep up." Pansy zoomed away from Ron quickly, pulling up into the air above the pitch.

 

Ron smirked at her verbal banter, and was a little surprised she somehow caught him staring as she bent for her broom.  He retrieved his own broom, mounted and shot off after Pansy. Once he reached level with Pansy, he said, "The basics 'eh?  Fine.  Show me what you've got."

 

Pansy nodded, and ascended higher over the goals, turning to look over her shoulder to see Ron following. He was keeping up, and he was a pretty fair flyer for a Keeper, she thought. 

 

"We'll do a speed drill, if you're up for it. Opposite goal and back, three times, high, then middle, and then low. I still don't know if they're going to ask me to play Chaser or Seeker, since Draco quit the team. I want to have the speed and the control for either." Pansy leaned low over her broom, and prepared to accelerate. "And Weasley, do try to keep up." She laughed as she rocketed away.

 

Ron rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, but Pansy was already gone.  It wouldn't be easy to keep up with her, she was right; thinking back to where his hands had just been, she had the body to either position.  Nevertheless, he shot off after her.  The cold wind rushing past his face felt exhilarating.  He watched her round the goal and speed back toward him.  He'd never catch her, but being out here with her was all he wanted anyway.

 

For a moment, Pansy was disappointed that Ron seemed distracted and that he wasn't as fast as she was, and she considered pulling up to allow him to catch her, but instead she focused on the object of the drill - raw speed. The wind and the air rushing by was refreshing and chill; it helped her to forget about her problems and all the trouble that had been caused in a mere week. She looked over her shoulder again, surprised to see Ron closer, a look of determination on his face. Keepers didn't really have to do this drill often, because they focused on maneuverability, but no skill on the broom was wasted in Quidditch.

 

Ron leaned into his broom, determined to give it his best effort.  He saw Pansy glance back, that gorgeous hair whipping off to the side.  She was fast, and he admired her spirit.  As he watched her snap around the goal again he couldn't help but narrow his eyes as they briefly faced one another as if to say, _better watch out, I'm going to catch you after all._

Pansy was surprised as Ron pulled alongside her in her dive to the middle altitude, she held on with one hand to blow him a kiss with the other, and then accelerated for the other end of the pitch. She leaned even lower over the broom, trying to get more speed out of it, and the opposite goalpost came up faster than before. She was going really fast, as fast as she'd ever gone, as fast as she'd seen Draco or Potter go in their battles for the Snitch, and she wondered if she would be a good Seeker.

 

Ron's heart skipped a beat when Pansy blew him a kiss.  He slowed a bit as a result and then noticing her increase in speed decided to just stop and watch her finish.  _She could definitely be a seeker_ , he thought.  What an interesting match that would be; to watch Pansy take on Harry and his heart sank a bit thinking about the mess that his relationship was with Harry right now.  Then Pansy zoomed by again, she was amazing, and he was with her right now and refused to let any of the drama in his life spoil anything tonight.

 

Three times around the pitch was over way too fast, Pansy mused as she pulled into the last lap, skimming along the ground. She really let it open up this time, giving her Nimbus 2000 a real speed workout. She imagined she was leaving Ron behind right now; she was going too fast to spare a look behind her as she rounded the far goalpost like a comet, and came back to the goal they had started at. She was breathing heavy as she pulled up, exhilarated from the speed and being with Ron. She pulled her wand out of her robe and waited for him to catch up.

 

Ron watched Pansy as she finished, then decided to complete the drill himself.  He enjoyed flying and he loved being here with Pansy.  He pulled round the rest of the goals as quickly as his large frame would allow and stopped next to Pansy.  He noticed the flush in her cheeks, the joy in her face and watched her breathing deeply...that sent a surge of excitement through him...and then he noticed her reaching for her wand, he frowned and for a moment thought she might have brought him here under false pretenses after all.

 

Pansy saw Ron's puzzled look as he approached and she wondered why he was confused. She pointed her wand at her bag and said, " _Accio_ Quaffle!" The practice Quaffle in her bag flew out towards her, and she caught it deftly as it approached. Pansy put her wand away, turned to Ron and said, "I thought you might like to do some scoring drills. I'll run at you a few times, and I'll try to... score on you," she said, grinning suggestively, and wheeling around away from the goal.

 

Ron pressed his forehead into his hand as Pansy flew off.  _You stupid git_ , he thought, _just trust her_ …and why did she always have to fly off before he could come back with some sort of retort?  Then Ron smiled to himself, she was taking charge out here, and he liked that.  She was confident without being bossy (the image of Hermione mid-lecture surfaced at this thought).  Pansy was spunky and playful; it seemed she could be someone he really enjoyed spending time with, no matter what they were doing.  Then Ron took his position at the goal, ready to see what kind of punch she would put behind the Quaffle.

 

Pansy pulled up at midfield and turned to face the goal that Ron was defending. He was all business now, and _fuck_ , he looked _good_. He had taken up a standard defensive position in front of the large hoops, and she could see the look of determination on his face from halfway across the pitch. Pansy hefted the Quaffle in her left hand, gripping her broom tightly in her right. She took off towards the goal, holding the Quaffle tight against her side, not giving any sign of how she was going to throw it until the last minute. Pansy dove suddenly as she approached the scoring area, and came up underneath Ron and to his right, making a play on the middle goal. She unleashed the Quaffle suddenly, throwing it hard at the hoop.

 

Ron watched Pansy fly toward him, bold as ever.  It was hard for him to tell which direction she would take, he could read most players’ body language, but hers remained ambiguous.  Just when he thought she was about to fly straight into him, she made for his right and the Quaffle was loose.  Ron released his hand from the broom and managed to deflect the edge of the Quaffle enough to send it just wide of the hoop.  He was pleased with himself, but really didn’t know how he managed to respond to her move so quickly.  _Well,_ he thought, _maybe I do have a good read on her body language after all_ …

 

Then Ron looked at Pansy with triumph and smiled to himself, he just had the most wicked idea and said, “Care for another go?  Have you got it in you to come for me twice?” 

 

Pansy pulled up close to Ron, frustrated that he’d blocked her shot. She pulled her wand out to summon the Quaffle from the ground where it had fallen, and Ron’s naughty comment nearly made her miss catching it as it flew towards her. She grinned and blushed, and tucked the Quaffle under her left arm. She floated close to him, and leaned over the handle of her broom to kiss him briefly. 

 

“Weasley, I’ll come for you ‘til I’m sore,” she said, pulling away and winking at him as she turned out wide and sped to the middle of the pitch again. Pansy could feel arousal stirring within her again, and she was suddenly very aware of the broomstick between her legs. She tightened her thighs around the hard wood, wishing it was a certain redheaded Gryffindor prat between her thighs instead, and moaned as she felt the sensation carry to her core.

 

Pansy pulled up and turned to face Ron again, shaking her head to regain her concentration. She’d be facing this distraction if she played against him, and she needed to focus. Dating Ron was one thing, but being accused of throwing matches for your boyfriend was quite another. Her house would give her enough grief as it was – some could be dissuaded with tales of toying with Ron, or using him for some purpose, but she wanted to play this year and she knew that she had to be all business during matches, or she’d never hear the end of it... If only Ron didn’t look so damned _good_ , it would be easier.

 

Ron watched Pansy blush then fumble with the Quaffle, feeling glad he’d finally gotten her back for her earlier innuendos.  Then after such a chaste kiss she came right out and said, “Weasley, I’ll come for you ‘til I’m sore.”  _Damn!  She was such a vixen._ If it weren’t for the fact that she bloody sped off from him again, and they were on floating on their brooms, he would have grabbed her, and pinned her under him that very instant.  Now he was thoroughly distracted and was sure he’d miss her next shot.  

 

While Pansy turned to face him again, he thought of all the trouble the two of them being together was going to stir up.  Not just because they were a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, there were many layers.  There was Draco, Harry and Lucius to deal with.  Not to mention that their lifestyles completely clashed.  She was wealthy, aristocratic and her family, blood-purists.  While he was poor, unrefined and his family considered blood-traitors.  Talk about complicated.  Ron watched Pansy, Quaffle in hand, preparing to charge and he thought, _is she worth it?  Do I really want to get in that deep?_   Then he looked up at her again, so confident and exquisite.  The answer was simple, _hell yes!_

Pansy leaned low over her broom, and gripped the Quaffle firmly in her left hand, holding it out away from her body. She looked up at Ron in goal again, a fierce look of concentration on his face. She knew they both loved Quidditch and that they would have no problems leaving that particular rivalry on the pitch.  She weaved towards Ron slow, left to right, trying to anticipate his moves and his responses. He was hard to read and she wondered when he’d gotten so good at concealing his movements. Pansy sped up suddenly as she broke the plane of the scoring area, whipping to the left and hurling the Quaffle hard at the goal to Ron’s right.

 

Ron bit his lip in concentration as Pansy came toward him, tracking her with only his eyes so his body wouldn’t twitch and give his defensive tactics away.  The Quaffle came fast and fierce.  Ron lurched, threw out his hand, and the Quaffle bent his fingers back as he attempted to make a save.  Ron swore as his fingers erupted with pain, and his heart sank as he watched the Quaffle barely make it inside the hoop.  

 

Gripping his injured fingers he looked towards Pansy.  He didn’t want to appear weak, but damn, his fingers were killing him.  He was never good with healing spells and hoped that Pansy could do something.  He would definitely need his hands to be in top form shortly.

 

Pansy shouted, “Ha!” in triumph as she shot past Ron, seeing her shot go through the hoop, but she also heard Ron swear in pain. She looped around the goals and floated level with Ron, her look of triumph turning to concern. She saw Ron grimace in pain and she knew he wasn’t faking it, so she pulled out her wand and instead of summoning the Quaffle for another go she came up alongside him.

 

“If this were a real game, you’d have to play through the pain,” Pansy said flatly. “But you know that. You can learn a lot of things about yourself by how you handle pain.” She looked at Ron directly, taking in the surprise she saw reflected in those deep blue eyes. Pansy felt her response getting away from her – she didn’t want to shock Ron but she knew that he’d see this side of her sooner or later. 

 

Pansy reached out with her right hand, taking Ron’s injured hand and turning it over, examining it. She handled him roughly, and he winced and tried to pull his hand away, but she gripped him harder. “Pain is the great teacher, Ron. It helps you understand what all the things that _don’t_ hurt really mean. But, I’m sure you’re well versed in pain, and its lessons.” Pansy waved her wand over his injured fingers and uttered a Healing Charm. She saw it take effect, satisfied, and as suddenly as the magic had sunk into Ron’s hand she grabbed the front of his flying robe, _hard_ , and pulled him into a fierce kiss, her eyes wide and intense.

 

Ron knew what Pansy had said was true, if this had been a game he’d be suffering through the rest of the match.  What possessed her to take advantage of his pain, he could only chalk up to her darker, true Slytherin side.  She had succeeded in rousing angst within him, and by the time she had swiftly taken away the pain she moments before had increased; his heart was racing.  Then he was assaulted with her sinister grip and demanding kiss.  _A worthy adversary_ , he thought.  

 

Ron responded by gripping the back of Pansy’s head and crushing her further into their kiss.  Then he broke it off, jerked her hands away from his robes and before diving for the turf demanded, “Get down here so I can finish what you started.”

 

Pansy pointed her wand at the Quaffle, where it had fallen, and summoned it. She put her wand away and caught the Quaffle, and looked down at Ron. She _liked_ the demanding tone in his voice, and she looked forward to hearing it applied to other tasks.

 

“Ron, I... want to keep going with the drills.” Pansy raised her voice so he could hear, as he was diving for the turf. “We should run through a few more quick scores before we leave off. I want to test your weak side, and run the Bratovitch Escape on you a few times to see if it really works on a breakaway. Then we can…” she trailed off. They’d planned on going to eat in Hogsmeade, but anything could happen once they got off their brooms at this point.

 

Ron pulled up on his broom.  _More drills? Was she serious? After that little teasing display?_   Fine, he could handle this.  So he got into position and awaited her next move.

 

Pansy floated close to Ron and touched his cheek affectionately, regarding his stern expression. She kissed him again, briefly like before, and tucked the Quaffle under her arm, speeding away to the middle of the pitch.

 

Ron was getting agitated from Pansy’s games…all hot and insistent one minute, then withdrawing and playing coy.  _Yeah, definitely a Slytherin_ , he thought to himself, he certainly had his hands full.  Ron braced himself for Pansy’s next move. 

 

Pansy ran a few more scoring passes on Ron, diving and weaving and shooting, retrieving the Quaffle quickly each time, hardly giving him time to reset before running at him again. It was different facing him one-on-one rather than watching him from the stands, seeing the determination and the desire in his expression. She was scoring on him about half the time – they were pretty evenly matched. It seemed to Pansy that Ron _hated_ to be scored against, even in a practice environment like this, and that made her appreciate him more. Passion was something that Pansy was severely lacking in her life, and Ron had an excess of it.

 

Ron felt exhilarated from the adrenaline surging through his body.  This is the type of work out he needed, not that jogging in the morning hadn’t helped him out, but he’d rather be with a partner.  Pansy was running the drills hard and fast, and she sure looked good doing it.  She was determined and fierce; he couldn’t wait to see that play out once he got her off that broom.

 

Pansy stopped briefly after retrieving the Quaffle and pulled up close to Ron. “I’m going to run the Bratovitch Escape on you. You’ve probably seen it, watching Puddlemere or the Falcons. I’m going to come across the pitch from different directions, go high across the plane of the scoring area and come down practically right on top of you, and throw the Quaffle at the goal you’re furthest from.” Pansy smiled thinly as she continued. “Keep an eye on me, or we might crash.”

 

“Right,” Ron said. He was up to the challenge, but he was also a little worried.  This was a pro move and he didn’t know if Pansy could pull it off. He’d seen wizards hurt very badly from doing it wrong, colliding with the Keeper, or a goal, or the pitch if they didn’t pull up in time.

 

When she got out into the middle of the pitch, Pansy heard a small voice say, _do_ _you know what you’re doing_? She shook her head. _I’ll stay on the team for sure if I can perfect this move,_ was the answer. Pansy tucked in the Quaffle and gathered speed, coming in over the top as fast as she could. She scored against Ron the first two times she did it, fast and furious, but the third time, when she came from behind him, he blocked it. In two more tries from different directions, he saved it one more time.

 

Ron took in Pansy’s form as she darted above the pitch.  Her hair again caught his eye, especially the way several of the long, dark strands were sticking to the sweat trickling down her neck.  He wanted to rake his fingers through that hair, and lick the moisture from her neck…for starters… she’d be positively dripping _, everywhere_ , by the time he was through with her.

 

Pansy was breathing hard, and she saw that Ron was looking winded, too. She knew she was sweaty and she looked a mess but she also knew that Ron didn’t care, and that made her feel better. Pansy floated in close to Ron again, and leaned over his broom, placing her hand around his broom, above his hands, and the other around his waist, kissing him again, softly, tenderly, delighting in the feel and the smell of him, sweaty and hot and excited and so _warm_... She nodded towards the pitch, but didn’t break the kiss.

 

Ron watched Pansy float toward him.  She looked a mess, _a bloody fucking sexy mess_.  He watched her wrap her hand around his broom and he was instantly hard, his Quidditch trousers suddenly very uncomfortable.  He felt her small hand grip his back and rocked his hips forward, dangerously close to her other hand.  He tasted her again, this time with less restraint and then, with great effort, pulled back to oblige her and descend to the ground.

 

Once they landed, and dismounted, Ron grabbed Pansy by the wrist and without giving her a chance to speak or object, pulled her straight towards the changing rooms.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bag of clothing Pansy had brought for their planned dinner in Hogsmeade.  _Won’t be needing those_ , he thought.  

 

Ron was suddenly faced with a choice, a choice that would no doubt continue to play out as long as they were together, which room?  Gryffindor or Slytherin?  Tonight he was in charge and it would be Gryffindor.  Ron pulled Pansy off to his right and pushed open the heavy arched wooden door.  The room was enchanted, and floating candles illuminated to cast a warm glow.  Glancing quickly around, Ron spotted the squashy scarlet covered chaise lounge by the starlit window.  While he made his way over, he quickly withdrew his wand and muttered, “ _Colloportus!”_ locking the room and securing their privacy.  

 

Ron pulled Pansy to him, and kissed her fiercely, possessively, his hands roaming over her strong lean back and his fingers tangling in her gorgeous messy hair.  He moved them toward the chaise until her knees hit the edge and she was forced back.  Ron immediately pressed her down with the weight of his body.  He threw her hands over head and intertwined his fingers with hers.  He crushed his mouth to hers while his hips ground impatiently into hers.

 

Pansy moaned loud and low into Ron’s mouth, feeling the white heat of her arousal blurring her senses. She scarcely realized where she was, Ron had dragged her here so quickly, and she looked past his head at the gauche scarlet curtains and she knew they were in the Gryffindor changing room. Suddenly she was on her back and Ron was pressing her down and kissing her hard and it was _so fucking perfect_. She writhed underneath him, pressing her thigh against his erection through his Quidditch robes, wanting to put her hands on him but content to be pinned to the chaise, feeling this strong redhead preparing to do Gods knew what to her.

 

Ron heard Pansy moan, and again it drove him crazy...and feeling her writhe beneath him wasn't helping his self control. _Not yet_ , he told himself, _you can't shag her yet, because that’s how you always mess things up._ Ron released Pansy from his binding grip and slid his hands down her arms then the side of her body...filling his hands with the roundness of her breasts and then gripping firmly at her waist.  He bunched his hands, tugged the black blouse she was wearing free from her Quidditch trousers and then ran his hands under her shirt, his fingers caressing her ribs.  _Too many bloody clothes_ , he thought then slid his hands out and unclasped her Quidditch robes.  Growing impatient he ripped her blouse, and sent the buttons flying.

 

Pansy's hands went around his neck the moment he released her, and then to his throat to undo the clasp on his Quidditch robes. She put her hands inside the robe deftly and felt his toned and sleek sides. She worked her hips against him slowly, a little more relaxed now that she could touch him, and marveled at his ferocity as he tore at the expensive blouse she was wearing. On any other day but today she'd be cursing him out for ripping it like that, and she smiled up at him, only to be greeted with the most shocked look she'd ever seen on the redhead.

 

Ron parted the blouse he'd just destroyed and froze.  He was staring directly at a Cannons t-shirt.  Ron frowned and grinned at the same time, it was possibly the sweetest and most exciting gesture he'd ever received.  Obviously she'd hoped he'd see it, that they'd be here like this now, while giving a nod to his favorite Quidditch team. _Priceless, bloody priceless_ , he thought.  Ron decided to play it coy and said, "Oh, I see you're a fan of the Cannons, they're all right I suppose...but now, they're really in my way."  Ron moved his hands down to her waist again, and while looking into Pansy's hazel eyes, slowly raised the shirt.

 

"All right? All RIGHT!?" Pansy nearly shrieked. She was way too turned on to punch him, but instead raised her arms and let him pull it off, glowering at him. "I'm not _just_ a fan of the Cannons, I'm their biggest bloody fan ever. They're the best bloody team in the League, they are, and you're not doing yourself any favors claiming that they're 'all right'." She was incensed and she was only dimly aware that Ron Weasley was looking at her bare breasts now.

 

Ron listened to her rant, and couldn't agree more, but wasn't going to talk about the

Cannons right now.  He watched Pansy's chest heave with each of her passionate words. Then he silenced her with a kiss.  Then his lips then left hers and trailed hot, searing kissed down her throat, to her breasts, which he sucked gently.  He then buried his hands in her soft, now messier hair and continued to torment her breasts with his tongue.

 

"Ooooh, fuck _yes_ , Ron," Pansy breathed hotly, bringing her hands down to his hair, his insult to her favourite team forgotten. He probably fancied Puddlemere anyways... her reverie was broken by Ron taking her nipple in his mouth and sucking it hard. She moaned his name low, and looked down at his head between her breasts, teasing her, and felt so alive and… Wet. Fuck, how had she been missing that? Surely Ron could smell her by now, in these tight quarters.

 

Ron's entire body trembled from the amount of force he was using to keep his clothes on.  He wanted to be inside her so badly that it was slowly shredding his sanity.  He moved further down her body, his tongue tracing the lines in her abdomen from taut muscles.  He tasted the mixture that was salt and Pansy, and smelled the scent that was her perfume and also hers alone. When he reached the top of her Quidditch trousers, he raised his head slightly to say, "Pansy, I want to taste you," in a tone that let her know he wouldn't be denied.

 

Pansy was confused a bit, and heard the edge in his voice. Did he mean...? Pansy sat up on her elbows and regarded Ron curiously. "You mean," her voice hitched, "you want to use your mouth? On... me?"

 

Ron brought his hands down to work the trousers free from her hips.  "Not just use it, Pansy," he said in a voice dripping with desire, "I want to feel you come against my lips."

 

Pansy lifted her hips reflexively, her mind reeling. She decided to tell him as he slid her Quidditch trousers off. "No wizard has ever... done that for me before, Ron," she said, her voice a mixture of lust and awe. She watched as he got her trousers all the way off and was left with her green satin knickers.

 

Ron was surprised, but pleased that he could give her something that Malfoy had not.  _What a bloody fool, that Ferret was_.  Ron grasped the edge of Pansy's knickers and tore them away.  He lowered himself, and nudged her legs further apart.  He placed his hands under her and lifted her hips.  Then he delved into her bare folds, licked and tormented, making her breathless.  The sound of her murmured pleasure echoed in his ears.

 

Pansy stayed up on her elbows, watching shamelessly as Ron licked and teased her. She moaned and sighed as Ron's tongue worked its way over her smoothness, teasing and lapping at her folds. He explored her relentlessly, and she arched her hips up into his mouth, wanting to come against his lips, as he'd asked. She straightened one arm behind her, supporting herself, and tangled her hand in his sweaty hair. It was suddenly _very_ hot in this changing room, and the heat was coming from her body, drawn out through her core by Ron Weasley’s tongue. She felt the pleasure mounting and growled, "Fuck, Ron! Right _there_!" She held onto his head for dear life, pressing his mouth hard against her cunt, shuddering from her approaching climax.

 

Ron could feel Pansy’s nearing release from the twitching of her thighs against his cheeks and from hearing her cry his name when his tongue stopped roaming to settle into sharp flicking motions on her clit.  But he was burning from the heat they generated and sensed some anxiety from Pansy…trying hard to make herself come against his mouth as he told her she would.  So he raised his head (delighting briefly that the loss of contact would cause her some angst) to lift himself up, and quickly pulled his top over his head.   Then he pressed himself into her, causing her to lie completely back, and relished in the feel of his bare chest pressing against her breasts.  

 

Ron then placed his finger where his tongue had been and said, “Relax, Pansy, I’ve got you.  Let me do this.  I love being down on you, especially since you’re so smooth…what a bloody a turn on that is.  Do you have any idea how divine you taste?  Here…” Ron slid his finger down and into her, then brought it to her lips, allowing her to draw it into her mouth.  Meanwhile, his cock throbbed angrily as he felt her tongue moving around his finger.

 

Pansy growled in frustration and reached for Ron, running her hands along his sides and his chest, wriggling underneath him. She twisted her right hand in his hair, carding her fingers through it and continued to explore Ron’s shoulders and chest with her left. She was hanging on the edge of release and the slightest contact would – _OH_. Pansy arched into Ron’s fingers as they entered her, and she nearly came. Surely he felt it, as she tightened around him, but it wasn’t enough to send her over the edge, just yet. _Fuck_ , she thought, _Ron is such a good tease_. 

 

As she was reeling from that, Ron’s fingers were suddenly in her mouth and he was going on about how good she tasted.  Pansy was going to say something but there was something tangy and musky on Ron’s fingers and Pansy realized it was _her_ , and Ron was so fucking hot and _wicked_ for letting her taste herself and she moaned his name again.

 

Ron extracted his finger from Pansy's warm and wet mouth.  The way she clung to him and moaned his name made his breathing ragged.  He wanted to show her exactly what she had been missing, when he finished with her tonight, she would never want to leave him.  Ron snaked his way back down Pansy's body, and felt her hand return to gripping his hair.  He dipped two fingers in, feeling her slick heat around them while he coaxed that pleasurable spot from within and returned his tongue to her clit...swirling, and caressing...

 

Pansy reached behind her, above her head on the chaise and grabbed a pillow to put under her neck as she watched Ron move back down to where he’d been moments before. “Yes, Ron...” Pansy sighed as he moved, tangling her hand in his glorious, sweaty copper mane again. She tilted her head and moaned when she saw his tongue darting out, licking and teasing her sex, and arched into him when he slid two fingers into her... Pansy’s world was spice and freckles, this amazing wizard’s head between her thighs and _oh_ , did he know how to use his tongue. 

 

Pansy could feel her pleasure mounting; she’d been so close when he’d stopped before... Ron’s tongue on her clit and callused fingers pumping in and out of her wetness were propelling her rapidly to a climax. Pansy thrashed and gritted her teeth, hissing in pleasure, and her eyes went wide as he found the spot.

 

“Oooooh Gods, Ron,” Pansy moaned _very_ loudly, “right there _fuckyesdon’tstopbaby_...” 

 

Pansy came, _hard_ , her cunt gripping Ron’s fingers tightly, sucking them deeper inside of her as her orgasm rocked her body in exquisite spasms. She moaned Ron’s name, drawing out the ‘o’ as his tongue moved relentlessly over her swollen clit. Pansy’s hips came up off the chaise and back down again, rolling with Ron’s tongue as he shattered her.

 

Ron couldn’t believe how uninhibited she was, the way she thrashed and writhed and _watched_ him draw pleasure from her.  The moans, words and shrieks that escaped her, and his name…hearing his name called from her lips with unbridled passion.  He had to hear her cry his name again.

 

Pansy felt weak and sated, and relaxed back against the chaise. She giggled a bit, and every nerve in her pussy was alive and excited. She let out a low “Mmmmm” of pleasure... She was keenly aware of Ron’s fingers inside her, scissoring in and out, the calluses on his hands causing shocks as they found pleasure points in her cunt she never knew about – also very aware of his tongue, still on her clit, swirling, caressing, and feeling so bloody _good_... Fuck, was he stopping? She looked down at him curiously.

 

Ron lifted his head for an instant to look into Pansy’s glassy, sated eyes. “Remember what I said? _Have you got it in you to come for me twice?”_ He challenged, and then lowered his head and continued to drive her pleasure on until she would climax again, hard on the heels of the first one. 

 

Ron gripped her thigh with one hand as his tongue continued its relentless assault. His fingers, still sore from the Quaffle, now coated again with her fluids, felt alive with the memory of feeling her clench around them as she came. Gods, he could only imagine feeling her milk his cock like that. 

 

Pansy smiled at Ron and relaxed. Her first climax had been so intense, and she wanted to enjoy the second that Ron had just promised her. She moaned his name softly.

“Ron... that’s it, baby. Mmmmm, right there. _Fuck_ , you’re good at this...” 

 

Pansy continued to praise Ron and spur him on, his fingers finding the right spot inside her more easily, his tongue moving over her clit in broad, swift strokes, driving her spare, driving her to the edge, and she reached it so easily. Her second climax approached rapidly, gripping his fingers tightly inside her again, her clit on fire from his deft tongue. She laughed as she came again, shuddering, feeling so _free_ , so emboldened as the pleasure this wizard gave her washed over her. She smiled broadly down at Ron as her orgasm took hold of her, her mouth lolling open in delight, and she knew she was sweaty and she probably looked ridiculous and she _didn’t fucking care_.

 

Ron felt her grip of his hair loosen as her entire body relaxed.  He lifted himself from between her thighs to see the smile of satisfaction on her face.  Her body fascinated him, small, strong and her reactions to him shamelessly untamed.  She looked completely messy and spent, and he delighted in knowing he had utterly disheveled the normally well-groomed Slytherin.  

 

Ron looked at the smile spreading across her lips and asked, “Tell me, Pansy have you ever felt anything like that?”

 

“No, not even in my dreams,” Pansy exhaled. “Ooh, fuck Ron, that was bloody well amazing!” Pansy giggled, and ran her fingers through her sweaty hair, letting it spill all over the chaise. She looked into Ron’s mischievous eyes, twinkling with desire and satisfaction. 

 

Ron leaned into Pansy and his lips claimed hers, allowing her to again taste herself, this time on his mouth.  Meanwhile, his entire body trembled with the need for release, but he vowed to stick to his resolve and withhold from taking her in the way he now wanted to most.  Pansy must have felt him shaking, fighting for control because suddenly she pushed him back off of her.  She stood and pulled him to his feet, and then sat, facing him at the edge of the chaise.

 

Pansy tugged at his Quidditch trousers impatiently, pulling them down and off, followed by his boxers. “Fuck, Weasley, do you have freckles _everywhere_?” She teased, and then she took in the sight of his cock. It was fucking glorious, firm and weeping and _big_ , bigger than Draco’s. She chuckled at that. Pansy was through teasing. She circled her tongue around the large head of Ron’s cock, collecting the precum that had gathered there, and looked up to give him a naughty glance as she took his shaft in her throat as deep as it would go. 

 

Her assault on him had been so quick and insistent that he barely had time to deal with the fact that he was now completely down her throat let alone respond to her sarcastic remark.  

 

“Fuck, Pansy!”  He managed with a hiss.  Her throat was so warm, deep and tight, it caused wave after wave of sensation to pour over him.  He entwined his fingers in that beautiful black hair and guided her as he slid in and out of her mouth. 

 

Pansy started to find her rhythm, bobbing her head back and forth, gripping the base of his cock with her left hand, and playing with herself with her right. Each time she moved Ron’s hardness down her throat she came closer to his glossy ginger pubes, until soon they were tickling her nose on every stroke.

 

Pansy moaned around Ron’s cock and slipped a finger into her cunt as she took Ron deep and held him there. She relaxed her mouth around his cock, delighting in the firm, warm feel of his hard shaft in her throat, all the way in. Pansy tightened her throat, swallowing around Ron’s shaft, and started to move again. Then she backed his cock out of her mouth, grasped him in her hand, and looked up at him as she jerked him off. 

 

Ron had watched with thrilling anticipation when Pansy fucked him with her mouth.  He almost came when her throat constricted around him, whatever she had just done was truly amazing.  He was under the impression most witches did this sort of thing as a courtesy, but Pansy, he could tell, was genuinely enthralled.  Not to mention she was working to bring herself off again.  This beautiful Slytherin was insatiable; he knew now he was in trouble, _big trouble_.  Then he felt her release him from her mouth and without missing a beat continue stroking him in her hand.  

 

“Shoot your spunk in my mouth, Ron. At this rate, we’re gonna skive off of dinner so I need something to tide me over.” She grinned wickedly and resumed blowing him, taking him deep, keeping the pressure on his shaft with her lips, licking the underside with her tongue on the down stroke, stopping once or twice to tease the head with her tongue before engulfing his cock with her mouth again.

 

Ron couldn’t believe his ears.  _She wanted him to cum in her mouth_.  Lavender and Hermione had both been repulsed by the very idea.  Now the knowledge Pansy wanted to taste him drove him further towards madness.  

 

Ron groaned aloud, “Fuck, Pansy, no witch has ever wanted me to do that.”  Then he grasped her head again and drove into her harder, while waves of climax assaulted his body.  He closed his eyes and savored the feel of her mouth wrapped around him… _she was his_ and his body suddenly exploded with release and spilled into her. 

 

Pansy moaned, her fingers working her clit furiously as Ron’s cum filled her throat, salty and hot and so fucking _good_. She was dimly aware of Ron’s hands tangled hard in her hair, and she felt the power of him, the force of his climax as he throbbed and swelled in her wet mouth. Pansy swallowed it greedily, but a few drops slipped out of the corners of her mouth and dribbled down her chin. 

 

Pansy moaned again, her fingers working herself to a small orgasm. She looked up at Ron; he looked so abandoned, pumping his cum deep inside her throat.  She watched his face screw up in his climax, and she knew…this would never get old…sex with Ron Weasley would never be boring.

 

Ron watched the small drops of his cum slide down to Pansy’s chin.  He disentangled one hand from her hair to gently wipe it from her face with his thumb.  She was truly amazing, incredible and perfect.  Perfect for him…he could learn to overlook the annoying detail that she was a Slytherin.  

 

Ron withdrew himself from her mouth and knelt down to look directly into her face, which he cupped in his hands while he gave Pansy a kiss of pure lust and gratitude. Pansy returned it softly, throwing her arms around Ron’s broad shoulders and pulling him in close. She broke the kiss and hugged him, pulling Ron in tightly, savoring the feel of him pressed against her.

 

When they finished, Ron looked around at the room, littered with their clothing and smiled at the Cannons t-shirt.  “So, you’re really a Cannons fan then?” he asked, pointing at the hastily discarded orange garment.

 

Pansy glowered at him. “Are you mental? I nearly punched you earlier, when you said they were just ‘all right’. That’s my lucky Cannons shirt – I wear it when I practice or fly. Lucky for you, you were getting my kit off to ravish me.” She grinned. “Yeah, I like the Cannons, always have. Gods, you should see my study or my room, I have posters and stuff everywhere, and one wall is solid orange.” Pansy saw the awestruck look on Ron’s face, and realization dawned on her. “Oh Ron, you’re a Cannons fan, too. Did you think I wore that t-shirt just for you?” He nodded weakly. “We’ve barely spoken in seven years, before this past week or so. We don’t have the same friends, and your friends wouldn’t... talk to me.” Pansy trailed off. “How could I have found out your favourite team?” She laughed. Pansy thought that it was sweet that he believed she’d do a thing like that for him.

 

Then Ron found his wand and summoned their clothing.  He pointed his wand at Pansy’s torn blouse and knickers and said, “ _Reparo!_ ” Pansy raised an eyebrow at Ron. He looked at Pansy and said with a laugh, “I’m not completely unrefined you know.”

 

Ron led Pansy off to the showers.  It was definitely the most sensual shower he’d ever experienced.  He and Pansy took turns soaping one another up, and the kissing was nearly non-stop. When they finished toweling each other off, they stated to dress, and Ron smiled to himself as he watched Pansy pull on the Cannons t-shirt.  Maybe they had more in common than he realized.  He would definitely keep a more open mind.  

 

“So, I’m bloody famished. Shall we get ‘round to dinner?”  Ron asked with enthusiasm.

 

Pansy laughed at that. “It’s too late to head down into Hogsmeade. If we hurry, we can catch the end of dinner in the Great Hall. Come on.” She was a bit disappointed they hadn’t made love, but she didn’t voice it, because she was certain Ron was adhering to some damn silly Gryffindor ideal. Pansy pulled Ron towards the door, kissing and groping him on the way out, all the while knowing that next time, they would.

 

On their way out, Ron flicked his wand to remove the privacy charms he had cast.  Then on impulse he said, “ _Orchideous!”_ causing a bouquet of violets to erupt form his wand.   He plucked one and tucked it behind Pansy’s ear, letting the back of his fingers slide down her cheek as he smiled softly upon her.

 

Pansy touched the flower and looked up into Ron’s clear blue eyes. “Ron,” she began, “I want this. I want _us_. I _want... you_.” She paused for a moment, considering her words, and went on. “Holding hands in the corridors. Stealing kisses before lessons... and after. Sitting next to each other in the classes we have together. Taking meals at each other’s house tables.” Pansy looked at him, unafraid. “If we’re dating, we’re dating, Ron. No pretenses, and no secrets. I guess my question for you is: d’you think the school is ready for us?”

 

Ron tucked a hand under her cheek, and tilted her head upwards, capturing her mouth in a breathtaking kiss. Pansy had her answer, and Ron had delivered it wordlessly, in the best way she could imagine. At that moment, she knew. When he released her, his blue eyes, so piercing and alive, were twinkling with mischief and desire. He shook his head and said, “No. I s’pose they’re not.” Grinning, Ron took her hand, and the two of them walked out onto the pitch to collect their brooms and things and banish them to their rooms. 

 

Then, they headed back into the castle, hoping to catch the end of dinner. Pansy clung to Ron’s arm as he boldly strode to the Gryffindor table with her in tow. She was nervous in the lion’s den, but Ron squeezed her hand reassuringly as they sat down. Pansy took a deep breath and turned to the closest Gryffindor, a bewildered-looking sixth year boy who was probably wondering what in Merlin’s name a Slytherin was doing at his table.

 

“Hi,” Pansy smiled, putting on her best Pureblooded charm. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ron piling food onto his plate one-handed, as he touched her arm with the other. “I’m Pansy Parkinson. I’m Ron’s girlfriend.” 

 


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

 

Ron lay in his bed, unable to sleep, thinking of how the other day had turned out.  He’d met Pansy to go flying, and planned to unearth more of her motivations about owling him in the first place.  She was a Slytherin after all, and there had to be more to her interest in him than just her breakup with Malfoy, and her suspicions that he was now dating a Gryffindor.  Pansy could have sought out anyone.  Ron was still miffed why she chose him, someone with whom she’d had an unfriendly past, not to mention he was a blood traitor.  Ron fussed with his covers and rolled over as his thoughts turned to how heated things had gotten between them in the Quidditch locker room.  He hadn’t meant for anything like that to happen; it was spontaneous, and bloody fantastic, but could it really lead to anything?  

 

Ron sat up in bed and rolled his head, generating cracks from his neck.  He wanted to believe Pansy was genuine; that she really liked __him__ , and she wasn’t after him for only revenge on Malfoy or because he had a recent hand in helping Harry defeat Voldemort. Ron found it hard to believe that his blood traitor status didn’t matter to her.  He knew it mattered to her parents; they were as elitist as the Malfoys, whose life ambition seemed to revolve around keeping the bloodline untarnished.  Ron thought on this a bit, for he knew that Pansy’s parents were serving a life sentence in Azkaban and that Pansy had officially inherited her family’s estate.  Maybe now that she was free from their prejudices and Dark ways that she was merely on her way to becoming her own person.

 

Ron threw his covers off and went to sit at his desk.  He wanted to see Pansy again, she was gorgeous and thrilling, and as much as he tried to talk himself out of it, he was smitten.  Ron decided he was willing to take a bit of a risk, by opening himself up to her, to the possibility of __them__.  Besides, he couldn’t deny how amazing she felt against him, and how the noises of pleasure she made drove him to genuinely want to please her. Ron grasped his quill, dipped it in ink and wrote:

 

****Dear Pansy,** **

****Mum taught me a thing or two, I'd really** ** ****

**like to make something for you tomorrow night.**

****  
How does pumpkin flan sound? Meet me in the kitchens,  
after dinner.   Take the door to the right of the main

**staircase, down the corridor to the picture with the fruit...**

**tickle the pear, it will turn into a handle, then come on in...**

**I'll be waiting for you!**  
  
Love,   
Ron

 

Ron went over to Pig, and took the suddenly over excited bird from his cage.  “Hold still, will you?!”  He hissed, attaching the note to the owl’s foot before releasing it into the night sky.  Ron watched him fly away around the castle.  __That’s that then__ , he thought, and went back to bed, wondering if he should try to fall asleep, or if he would receive a timely reply.    
  


Pansy was restless, and sleep was not coming easily.  __Is it any wonder I can’t sleep,__ she thought _, __I’m_ _chasing after a blood traitor.___ Pansy punched the mattress and thrashed her head from side to side, angry about her feelings for Ron. She considered her motives and she knew that Ron was suspicious of her, and with good reason. Ron had no reason to trust her, which made their tryst in the locker room as bewildering as it was exhilarating. Getting involved with Ron was complicated, unlike the life she’d had planned out before her when she was Malfoy’s girl. Now that that was over, Pansy found herself debating the wisdom of trying to win him back, and she knew that it was half-hearted at best. 

 

It would have been so much easier to use him to try and get Draco back if he weren’t so attractive. Ron was handsome, tall, fit and bloody well gorgeous... Pansy thought of all the times her eyes had roved over him in the halls, or at Quidditch games. He was nothing like Draco, and Pansy found herself liking those differences in spite of herself. 

Pansy heard tapping on her window, and with a huff of exasperation, she pulled herself from bed to receive the owl.  However, her heart leapt with excitement when she saw the little bird swirling spastically around.  __Pig.  It’s from Ron!_ _ She read the note and quickly scrawled a reply, letting him know she’d be there.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Ron dashed down the main staircase in the entrance hall, his entire body humming as he anticipated spending time alone with Pansy again. Their fellow students were quite taken aback by the Gryffindor and the Slytherin so openly displaying their courtship.  Not that they had done more than sit together in classes and for meals…well there was the occasional warm touch or kiss, but overall they had behaved with dignity while the eyes of the school were upon them.  

 

Ron made a right at the bottom of the stairs, walked through the heavy arched door and as he followed the corridor toward the kitchens, his mind was once again flooded with the memory of being in the Gryffindor changing rooms with Pansy last weekend.  

Ron was still surprised by Pansy’s wildly uninhibited nature.  Who would have thought that a witch raised with an aristocratic Pureblood background, knowledgeable of society mannerisms, would no doubt make even a Veela seem tame?

.  

Ron was pleased that he managed not to shag Pansy that night in the Quidditch changing room, although what they had done was bloody hot and satisfying.  Tonight, however, he planned to shag her rotten.  A smile spread across his lips because he knew she’d probably find some way to surprise him with her talents again and he’d be shagged rotten too.

 

When Ron came to the painting of the bowl of fruit, he tickled the pear, listened to it giggle and then watched it become a door handle.  He twisted the handle, swung the painting open, and stepped inside.  He glanced at the mounds of brass pots and pans that were heaped around the walls, and then made his way to the preparation tables in the center of the room.

  

He’d never made anything in the kitchens before, just nicked prepared food so he didn’t know where to find anything.  The kitchens employed over a hundred house-elves, but they seemed to be elsewhere.  Just as he was beginning to nose around, a small female elf with bright green eyes and unnaturally large ears that flopped over like a dog’s appeared.  She bowed and asked, “My name is Fitsy, how may I help you sir?”  

“I want to make a pumpkin flan.  My girlfriend will be meeting me here soon, so if you could gather the ingredients for me, that would be great.”  

Fitsy’s face brightened with the prospect of being given work to do.  “Yes sir, Fitsy will get everything you will need.”  As the elf started bustling around, Ron called to her, “My name is Ron, ‘er Ron Weasley, you can call me by my name.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Weasley, sir.”  Fitsy replied with enthusiasm.

Fitsy fetched sugar, eggs, salt, water, cinnamon, vanilla extract, pumpkin puree and milk.  Then she gathered the necessary utensils—cake pan, broiler pan, whisk, mixing bowls, measuring spoons and cups.

“There, Mr. Weasley, sir!” Fitsy said proudly, then continued  “Now Fitsy will prepare the fire for Mr. Weasley and his girlfriend.”    

Ron appreciated the help but thought the elf would do little to enhance the mood he was hoping to create, so he swiftly said, “’Er, look, I can take it from here…thanks for fetching everything, now if you don’t mind…”

Ron heard the door to the kitchen open and smiled when he saw Pansy closing the door behind her. She looked more beautiful and sexy than ever.  

Ron made his way over and greeted Pansy with a ferocious kiss.  He wrapped his hands around the small of her back while she reached up for his shoulders.  He loved feeling her body pressed into his, and the way she smelled today…like vanilla and flowers, but he could also smell the scent that was just Pansy and it told him she was just aching to be ravaged.  

Ron’s body responded to the way she smelled and having her body crushed into his.  Gods, he couldn’t wait to be inside her.  He __needed__ to be inside her.  His kiss increased with desire as he pulled her lower lip into his mouth, sucking it impatiently. 

Pansy moaned softly and relaxed into Ron’s embrace and the kiss that followed, curling her arms under his and spreading her fingers out over his broad shoulder blades, pressing against the redheaded wizard who had occupied her thoughts all this week. She inhaled sharply from the force of his kiss, and she felt his __desire__ behind it and it made her warm and wet with need. “Gods, I missed holding you like this,” she breathed against his chest, hugging him tighter after he broke the kiss.

Ron forced himself to pull back, lest he take her right there in the kitchens.  He stepped back, ran his fingers through his hair, and said, “Right, ‘er I’ve got all the ingredients we’ll need,” waving his hand towards the table, “so let’s get started.”

Pansy was breathing heavily and she could hardly believe he’d managed to pull away. “I thought you were joking when you said you wanted to cook for me tonight,” Pansy laughed. Ron was full of surprises... and willpower. “Fine, what do we have to do?”

“First, we need to make a hot water bath for the flan, and then we can mix the ingredients before putting it over the fire…” Ron’s voice trailed off.  He had shooed Fitsy away before she had the chance to light the fire, so he reached for his wand, pointed it at the fireplace and said, __“Incenido!”__

Then Ron continued, “Why don’t you mix these ingredients together while I caramelize the sugar?”

Pansy was bemused, and bloody randy. Ron was indeed serious about cooking for her, and it was sweet, even though she desperately wanted to abandon this project and drag him down the corridor. She decided to find some way to torment him for making her wait.

“Ron, you know I don’t have the first clue how to cook,” she said petulantly. “You’ll have to show me what to do, because I’m afraid I’ll mess it up. Show me how to mix this stuff together without ruining it.” Pansy gestured at the ingredients and the utensils in front of her.

Ron came over obligingly and stood behind her, holding the whisk and the bowlful of ingredients. Pansy stifled a moan as he pressed against her and told her about the right angle and speed for mixing, while she thought of the right angle and speed for other things. She rubbed her bum against him a few times, and he pressed against her, but he continued to show her what to do. As much as Ron appreciated Pansy’s round arse creating friction on his cock, he would not let her tease her way out of learning something new.  He managed to remain fairly non-reactive and once he was satisfied that she wasn’t going to ruin it, Ron went back to finish caramelizing the sugar and Pansy tried not to shriek in frustration. 

Pansy was trying desperately to calm herself. Didn’t Ron __feel__ how badly she wanted him? Didn’t he __smell__ it? Pansy shook her head and turned her attention back to the bowl she was mixing. She wanted to drop it on “accident”, or throw it across the kitchen and jump on Ron, but she composed herself. This was important to Ron, and he was doing it for her. She smiled at that, and then she realized that it really was a sweet gesture. Besides, there was plenty of time to shag him silly, because it was early yet.

Pansy started to hum, enjoying the simple task of mixing the ingredients for pumpkin flan. She would enjoy feeding it to Ron, kissing it off of his lips, or he off of her breasts... she giggled at that prospect and relaxed, stealing glances at Ron as he prepared the sugar.

Ron saw Pansy glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.  She was over there smiling about something, and he felt content that she seemed to be enjoying herself.  The sugar had turned golden brown, so Ron tilted the pan to distribute the sugar evenly, and then removed it from the heat.  He then set the camel-lined pan in the center of the hot water bath.  It was now ready for the egg mixture, and could then go over the fire.  

Ron walked back over to Pansy, “Excellent, that looks perfect.  Maybe you’ve got a talent for domestic duties,” he jabbed.  “Now then, come pour that into the pan over here and then we can set it over the fire to bake.”

Pansy couldn’t keep her eyes off of Ron as he put the flan on the fire. He looked so confident here, moving about, in his element in the kitchen as much as the Great Hall or the pitch or... Pansy felt desire well up inside herself again, and she wondered how in Merlin’s name Ron __did that__...

Ron came back over to the table Pansy was leaning against.  He traced her lips with his finger, “I ended up with some of the batter on my hands, and here, have a taste.”  Pansy let her tongue slowly make its way around her lips, and then Ron pushed his mouth against hers to draw that taunting little tongue back into his mouth.

“You’re amazing, do you know that?” Pansy asked.

Ron continued to kiss Pansy, letting his hands play with the raven hair he loved so much cascading down her back, then smugly responded, “Yeah, I know, glad you finally figured that out.”  

Ron released Pansy from their embrace and backed himself against the table just behind him.  He set a timer for the flan, then crossed his arms and said, “Well then, we’ve got about 20 minutes for the flan to bake so any ideas on how to kill the time?”

Pansy looked him over, and she decided now was the time to ask the hard question that had been bothering her all this time.

“So. Ron.  You and Granger. Not working out. Explain.” Pansy took in his pained expression, and she hastily added, “I’m glad you’re here with me, but... what happened?”

Ron sighed, scratched his neck out of anxiety and began, “Well, we finally got together, I mean __really__ together after the war ended.   In order to protect her parents from Voldemort, she had altered their memory so they didn’t even know they had a daughter, and convinced them to move to Australia.  It was going to take a good bit of magic to undo all that, so she decided to stay at the Burrow, where she could be close to the magical world, to work out how to bring them ‘round again.”

Ron grasped the edge of the table with his hands, and hoisted himself to sit on it.  He clasped his hands together in front of him, rested his forearms on his legs and continued.  “So, anyway we were spending loads of time together, which was great.  Hermione stayed with Ginny, but would sneak into my room late, just about every night.  It was intense, at first, because we’d spent years pining for each other, but not doing anything about it.”  

Ron paused, took a deep breath and then said, “Well, I’m sure you know her personality is sort of ‘er, directive?  I’m not complaining, I mean she taught me loads, about how a witch’s body works,” Ron paused and winked at Pansy, then continued, “she probably read a series of books or something, but it got hard to just go with my instincts.  I mean I always had in the back of my head that she was critiquing me, and I was going to hear about it.”

He slid off the table and rested back against it, and then continued.  “So, I guess I got frustrated and we started having rows over stupid things, creating excuses to not spend so much time together.  She started sneaking into my room less and less, and she even had the nerve to tell me I had the emotional range of a teaspoon.”

“Oh, Ron.” Pansy said sympathetically, trying to recover from the images of Ron shagging Granger every which way that swam in her mind. “She really said that? A teaspoon? That’s cruel, even by my standards.” 

Ron smiled, appreciating her sympathy, as Pansy took the two steps across the narrow aisle and pressed against Ron swiftly, kissing him hard. She caressed his sides firmly so as not to tickle, and trailed her mouth across his firm jaw and down his neck, sucking on his throat as if it were the treat she came to the kitchens for. Pansy let her hands roam over Ron’s sides and midsection, up his chest, pressing against his school shirt and wishing they were naked by now... kissing him again, soft, then hard and soft again, delighting in the feel of his tongue and his taut body pressed against hers. 

Ron kissed her back with a new intensity. He would positively devour her tonight.  But for now, he turned them around so her backside was against the table and then he effortlessly lifted her up onto it.  Her slender, powerful legs wrapped around his hips, and his hands grasped her from behind to pull her hips flush into his.  He shamelessly ground his erection into her parted legs while his hands left her back to reach the top buttons of her blouse.  His hands shook with impatience, but he vowed not to rip them off this time.  Once her blouse was open part way, he broke their kiss to trail his tongue down her graceful neck to the hollow spot where he pulled the skin there between his lips.  

Pansy’s head was thrown back and the gasps and moans that escaped her nearly broke Ron’s self-control.  He continued trailing his tongue down her body, over to her breast and nipping the flesh that spilled from the top of her white cotton bra.  His hands now found their way between her thighs and his fingers started to tease, brushing just under the edge of her already drenched knickers.  

Ding! went the timer set for the flan.  Ron growled in frustration, but quickly composed himself.  He moved his hands to slide them around Pansy’s slim waist and lifted his head from her bosom to plant a few light kisses on her swollen lips. “The flan is done, love.  It has to chill for awhile, so I’ll go put it on ice and then,” he kissed her again this time more passionately, “I’m all yours.”

Pansy stifled a moan as Ron withdrew his hands from up under her skirt and moved away to put the dessert on ice. Pansy’s mind reeled with desire as she got down off of the table and looked down at her open robes and her uniform underneath. She looked like Ron Weasley had just felt her up. __Fuck it__ , she thought, __it’s only a short way to the room_._

 

Ron made his way back over to Pansy and she smirked at him wickedly, and took his hand with her right, drawing her wand in her left. “Ron,” she said coyly, “d’you want to fuck me?”

 

Ron couldn’t believe how bold she was sometimes, and with the image of Pansy writhing, all hot and insistent beneath him, he said, “There aren’t words to describe what I want to do to you.”

 

Pansy giggled and blushed, and said; “Maybe I’ll find the words, when you’re doing it to me.”  Pansy turned and led Ron out of the kitchen, down the corridor towards the dungeons. The passages were getting dark as they got closer, and she uttered _“ _Lumos_!”_ and bade for Ron to draw and do the same. In the light from their wands, Pansy found the passageway she was looking for, which led to a steep staircase.

 

Ron pulled back on Pansy’s hand to slow her down, “’Er, where are we going?”  The fact that they needed wand light was making him nervous, but Pansy’s silhouette looked even more fetching illuminated against the darkness.  He’d not spent much time in the dungeons and that made their destination quite mysterious.  

 

Pansy led Ron down the narrow stairs. Her heart pounded with anticipation and her nerves sang with need. Pansy looked back at Ron, luminous wand in hand, and he looked a bit apprehensive given the setting. This __was__ the Slytherin dungeon, after all... Pansy smiled at him reassuringly, and he smiled back at her and oh Gods, the __look__ he gave her stopped her in her tracks and she wanted to let him take her right there, on the cold and dusty steps of the staircase. Pansy settled for kissing him deeply, but all too briefly.

 

“Draco never looked at me like that,” Pansy said, her voice a whisper as she leaned against Ron. “Like he wanted me so badly that he couldn’t go another minute without having me.” She looked up at him. “The way you looked at me just then, Ron.” Pansy’s voice was shaky and louder in the narrow stone passage. “Ron, I want you as badly as you want me. All week, I’ve been going mental with the thought of you inside me. I __need__ you inside me.” Pansy licked her lips and smiled. “Come on, Ron.”  

 

Before Pansy could lead them on, Ron pushed her against the staircase wall, and grasped under her knee to pull her leg up around his.  He bunched the hem of her skirt in his fist and yanked it up her thigh, his nails leaving marks as they scraped up her skin. “I’d take you right here if I was sure Slughorn wouldn’t show up.”  Ron released her leg and between ragged breaths he said, “Wherever we’re going had better be close.” 

 

The rest of the stairs were a blur and they came to a heavy wooden door at the bottom. Pansy was trembling with lust as she raised her wand, and she could __feel__ Ron looking at her.  Pressing her right hand against the door, Pansy held her wand tight and uttered the counter-curse for the hex on the door. The door opened with a soft hiss and swung inward.  “Come on,” Pansy said over her shoulder to Ron.

 

The door opened to reveal a small but cozy room, which appeared to be some sort of living quarters. There was a large four-poster bed with green satin sheets and a silver canopy, and also a chest of drawers, a desk and a wardrobe, as well as a small fireplace and several bookshelves. It was vaguely masculine, but there were feminine touches here and there.

 

Ron let his eyes travel around the room.  The gauche colors aside, he thought the room looked quite inviting and couldn’t figure out how a room so appealing could exist in the dungeons.

 

“This is Professor Tanner’s old quarters,” Pansy explained. “They just left it this way when he left the school. He taught Potions in the Fifties, before Slughorn came in to teach it. I found it earlier in the year, on Prefect rounds. I cleaned it up and gave it a few personal touches.” 

 

Pansy turned to look at Ron, and was confused for a moment when she didn’t see him. She felt hands on her thighs and she looked down to see Ron kneeling in front of her, pushing up her school skirt.  Ron grasped the waistband of her white cotton knickers and slowly slid them down.  With a heavy voice he said, “You would have to wear something so innocent for our first time… _ _naughty girl_._ ” Ron pulled them down to her feet, and then nudged her leg over his shoulder.  He brought his tongue to her center; a low growl escaped him, as he tasted her.  

 

“Ooh Gods, yes, Ron, can you feel how wet I am for you? I’ve been like this all day. I changed my knickers twice, and I simply __ruined__ a costly pair of silk ones I got in France... that’s why I’m in plain white school knickers, I hoped you wouldn’t mind.”

 

Pansy balanced herself with a hand on his shoulder and one on the back of his head. Ron assaulted her pussy with his mouth, and Pansy knew she was going to cum _ _fast__. She welcomed an easy, quick orgasm before Ron fucked her. 

 

Ron cupped Pansy’s arse and held her up, and his tongue continued to work its magic.  He then slid his fingers deep into her wetness, testing her, teasing her.  Ron trembled with need, his cock straining against his uniform trousers.  He desperately wanted to move a hand to rub himself, to ease some of the tension.  His desire to fuck her and feel her warmth around him was more than he could bear, but he remained attentive to Pansy, committing to feel her cum against his mouth.   

 

“Right there, baby, I’m gonna cum all over your face, __righttheredon’tstopyes__!” Pansy was overtaken by how quickly Ron made her cum, and as she was reeling from it, he stood up and started tearing her clothes off as he pushed her towards the bed. Pansy was dimly aware that she was undressing Ron, too, and they were naked by the time they made it to the four-poster bed.

 

Ron collapsed on top of Pansy and looked hesitantly down at her. “Pansy...” he started, breathing hard. “ _ _Contraceptus__?” And he began to reach for his wand on the nightstand. 

 

Pansy waved her hand, shaking her head. “I’m on the Potion.” she explained. “Come on, then.”

 

Ron’s patience had reached its end and he knew Pansy was ready, but he wanted to savor the feel of her naked body crushed beneath his, at last, a moment longer.  His lips immediately found her neck, tasting, sucking.  They moved down towards her shoulder, to the spot he sought, that spot where he loved to mark and bite, but for now he only nipped and kissed.  

 

His hand found her breast and he massaged it in his palm.  __Bloody perfect__ , he thought, only a little of the flesh he could not contain in his large hand.  He then slid his thumb and forefinger around her nipple, working it into a taut peak.  While his other hand lost itself in the hair spilling around her head.  

 

Ron’s erection ached as he ground against her hip, his need to bury himself inside her now overtaking him.  His hand left her breast and he reached to grasp his cock and rub it between her folds, coating it with her sensual fluids.  

 

Ron braced himself over Pansy; taking in the desperation for him he saw in her eyes, and then with one long masterful stroke, drove himself deep into her. 

 

Ron paused for a moment, just savoring the feel of finally being inside Pansy.  He nearly shook with the sensation.  She was so hot, wet and __tight__.  He hadn’t expected that, after being with Malfoy for so long, but nevertheless her grip around him was truly exquisite.  His head fell next to her neck as he grunted with relief.  

 

“Right where you belong,” Pansy breathed in Ron’s ear as he sheathed himself inside of her, so glad to have him filling her up at last.  Ron raised his head, and looked down at Pansy and smiled despite himself as he began to ease in and out of her.

 

Pansy looked up at Ron, his eyes so clear and bright, inside her at last, moving and thrusting deep and slow. She leaned up to steal kisses from him and he smiled, closing his eyes intermittently and she knew he was savoring the delicious feeling of her tightness gripping him and milking him. She snaked a hand down between them to take care of herself as she had always needed to with Draco – she didn’t think that Ron would mind, honestly, but when her hand got to about her bellybutton she stopped.

 

“Oh!” Pansy said, as if she were having a revelation about a potion formula. “ _ _Oh__.” There, that sounded sexier. The way Ron pressed down against her body, the feel of him inside her and the way he moved, she... felt really good. Instead of reaching for her clit to rub it while Ron was inside her, like she’d meant to, she placed her hand against Ron’s side, the other on his shoulder, and just felt him fucking her, slow, steady, building up, a little faster now...

 

Pansy started to laugh. “Fuck, Weasley, you’re... really good at this...” she remembered what he’d said about Hermione being bossy and she pictured her correcting him until he got it right, and then she imagined watching them fuck, and the naughtiness of those mental images combined with the way that Ron was fucking her, which was really bloody good, Pansy felt her climax starting to mount.

 

Ron savored Pansy’s hands roaming over his body, her nails at times digging into his back, and he could picture the half-moon marks they were surely leaving.  He continued to move slowly, wanting this to last…forever, but he had waited so long, pushed his self-control to the limits and he knew it wouldn’t be much longer.  

 

Ron continued to angle his hips in a way that he knew would help Pansy be stimulated from the outside while the tip of his cock would move against that gratifying spot inside her each time he drove himself into her.  

 

Ron watched Pansy’s face, waiting to see it twist with ecstasy before he would allow himself to come.  He moved more intently now, the friction driving him towards his own climax, and with a few more vigorous strokes he saw Pansy’s lips part, and her head arch back and he felt her thrust her hips up into his while she cried out his name in release.  Feeling her spasm around him, he allowed himself to finally let go.  He grunted with each thrust that shot cum from his shaft deep within her and cried her name before collapsing as a sweaty heap on top of her. 

 

Everything about making love to Ron was as perfect as Pansy had imagined it would be. Her orgasm had built slow and had been so amazing, and when Ron filled her up for the first time she felt his bliss, channeled through her entire body. Pansy hugged Ron against her tightly after he’d collapsed, spent. Pansy felt so happy and so __alive__ , wrapping her arms and legs around him, and she never wanted to let this amazing wizard go.

 

Pansy kissed Ron’s mouth, and his shoulders, and his neck, tasting his smooth, freckled skin, the heat and the salt and the sweat, laving her tongue over his flesh. They shared one last deep, ferocious kiss that ended in several short, playful kisses before Ron rolled off of her and lay beside her.

 

Ron was glowing, he remembered Pansy’s words of praise… _ _Fuck, Weasley, you’re... really good at this...__ After Hermione’s critical nature, his confidence was a bit shot.  But now he felt like he could be himself, and, well take some risks.

 

Pansy curled up against Ron’s side, draping an arm over his broad chest. She kissed his shoulder idly, rubbing her leg against his, and wondered how to broach the other thing that had been bothering her. “Ron,” she began hesitantly, “how have the other Gryffindors been treating you? I know they are all polite enough in the Great Hall, more or less, but... how is it when I’m not around, when the professors aren’t around?”

 

Ron grasped Pansy’s hand in his own and answered, “Well, I’d say most are surprised.  I get some funny looks and at times conversations suddenly stop when I walk into the room.  It’s not just that you’re in Slytherin, Pansy, it’s because you were Draco’s girlfriend for so long, and all the Gryffindors know I don’t get on with him.”  Ron squeezed Pansy’s hand, unsure if he should tell her then next part, but went ahead, “It’s also because you pointed Harry out in the Great Hall during the battle, they think I’m fraternizing with the witch who was ready to hand my best friend over to Voldemort.”

 

Pansy frowned as she reflected on that dark day, and all the terrible things that had happened. “I pointed him out so that my house would see how badly outnumbered we were.” Pansy hesitated for a moment, and then went on. “Pointing out Harry, while it appears self-serving saved lives. It forced the hand of those in my house who wanted to start a fight right then and there. It prevented bloodshed in the Great Hall, before the final battle. It gave the defenders time to organize and prepare without another conflict on their hands.” 

 

Pansy exhaled and continued. “Besides, no one wanted to take up arms against their parents. A great many Slytherin’s mums and dads were Death Eaters and the prospect of fighting them was... daunting.” Pansy looked at Ron, and for a moment she wondered how she could look any of them in the face again, after what she’d done, and what she’d allowed to take place. “As for us, my housemates tease me, and I remind them that the war is over, sometimes with my wand.”

 

Ron could picture Pansy standing up for herself in front of her fellow Slytherins and he admired her spirit.  “It’s going to take time, that’s all. We’ve all got some changing to do.  The wizarding world is different now.  It just seems that you and I are ahead of our housemates when it comes to being willing to accept people for who they are, who they want to become rather than what side they came from,”  Ron said, pulling Pansy’s hand up to his lips to give it a kiss.  

 

Pansy shivered as Ron’s lips met her hand and she curled up closer against him. His skin was so warm and he felt so bloody good pressed against her, she couldn’t get enough of the sensation, or of him. “I’m glad for that, Ron,” Pansy said as she let her hand explore his chest. “It’s not what anyone was expecting, that’s for sure, least of all the two of us,” she laughed. “Our housemates may say whatever they like. We get on and that’s all that matters.” 

 

Pansy’s hand crept down to Ron’s crotch, and she touched the head of his semi-tumescent cock, testing its firmness with her fingertips. Pansy heard Ron moan softly, and, encouraged, she sat up next to him and continued to apply feather light touches to Ron’s shaft with her fingertips. Ron was stirring to life again and Pansy watched, fascinated, as her touches and manipulations elicited twitches from his hardening shaft.

 

Soon, Ron was fully hard again and Pansy bent down to engulf Ron’s cock in her mouth. She moaned softly as she took him deep in one motion, tasting the remnants of their fluids on his erection, so musky and hot. The two of them, mixed together, sparked Pansy’s arousal once more. She let her hair spill all over his thighs and his midsection as Ron’s hardness throbbed in her throat. Pansy gripped Ron’s shaft at the base with one hand and with the other, found Ron’s hand and twined her fingers in his, holding his hand as she worked his rigid member in and out of her mouth.

 

Pansy swirled her tongue around the tip, tasting his firm, warm flesh and making him moan. She glanced up at him wickedly, eyes wide, and batted her eyelashes, trying to look innocent with her mouth stuffed full of Ron’s cock. Pansy closed her eyes and sighed, and took him deep in her mouth again, savoring his taste and the feeling of his power. He wasn’t selfish, it was power and strength he gladly shared with her and that was what made Pansy excited.

 

Pansy took Ron’s cock out of her mouth slowly and used her hand, stroking him up and down as she looked at his face. He looked so blissful, lusty and hot, and she’d never tire of putting that look on his face.

 

“Looks like someone is ready to go again,” she observed, gripping his shaft for emphasis.

 

Ron nodded with a smirk.  He loved how Pansy liked to watch him go down on her, and now how she looked up to watch his face with his cock in her mouth.  And the way her tongue snaked around him was reason alone she belonged in Slytherin.

 

Pansy released him from her mouth, and then Ron flipped her over swiftly, moved behind her and pulled her to hands and knees.  He ran his tongue over her round arse cheek and said hungrily, “Pansy, ever since I watched you bend over for your broom on the pitch I haven’t stopped aching to take you from behind…”

 

“Fuck yes, Ron.” She breathed hard as he pressed the head of his erection against her slick opening, teasing her by rubbing it up and down her slit, and fuck, he was __hot__... then he changed his angle and entered her smoothly and slowly, and Pansy moaned his name loud and hard, feeling him fill her cunt inch by delicious inch, so warm and full and glorious... 

 

Ron felt powerful, moving in and out of her from behind.  While he began to penetrate her, he ran his hands over her arse, across her back and through the hair spilling invitingly there.  “Gods, Pansy you’re beautiful, so fucking beautiful…and tight, Merlin, how is that possible?”  Ron asked, his voice husky and wanting. 

 

Ron looked down to watch himself disappearing completely inside her.  He was able to bury himself deeper from this position and the sight of that alone made him want to dominate and fuck her even harder.   

 

Pansy gripped the sheets desperately, pressing her chest against the mattress, turning her head to the side and rocking back against Ron’s cock rhythmically. Ron’s praise of her beauty and her sex made her whimper softly. His grip on the soft flesh of her hips as he took her from behind was becoming deep and hard and bruising and she __loved__ it...

 

Pansy whipped her head to the side, and back, letting her glossy black mane flail around and stick to her sweaty back. She’d seen Ron looking at her hair and she knew it would drive him wild, in addition to making her feel wanton.

 

Ron watched Pansy’s raven locks thrashing around.  Out of lust and instinct, he grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, and twisted the strands around his fist.  Giving it a hard yank, Pansy’s head lashed back and Ron heard her shriek.  He jerked again and now she was upright on her knees, with her back against his chest.  He held her to him by the hair and also by wrapping his other arm across her ribs while continuing to pound into her relentlessly.  Ron clenched Pansy to him possessively, owning her for a few more strokes, then released her from his imprisonment and watched her fall forward until her face landed on the bed again. 

 

“At... your... fucking... __mercy__ , Ron...” She moaned, pressing her cheek against the sheet, arching her back and trying to get her arse higher in the air, trying to get more of Ron inside her. Pansy ran her fingers through her hair, where Ron’s hands had been moments before, and gripped the sheets again, on either side of her head. Ron’s cock pistoning into her so hard was making every nerve in her body wail and scream in pleasure, starting deep in her cunt and working outward in wave after wave. “So... fucking... good... baby, don’t stop, Gods, don’t stop!”

 

Pansy was close, so close. Ron’s shaft was assaulting her tight channel without end and he was finding __every__ little sensitive spot deep within her. She straightened her arms, got up on her hands and knees proper and turned her head to look at Ron. He was so magnificent and powerful, taking her from behind, gripping her hips, thrusting into her hard and hot, and when she laid eyes on him, she came. The sight drove her spare and she spasmed around his cock, thrusting back against his shaft, shuddering and tightening as her climax obliviated her senses. 

 

Ron groaned, feeling her body clench around him, and knowing that when they locked eyes it made her come, shook him to the core.  

 

Pansy went back down onto her elbows as Ron continued to thrust into her from behind.  She was wetter from her orgasm, and she concentrated on the feel of Ron inside her, so slick, in and out, moving rapidly towards his own climax, so warm and __big__...  Pansy whimpered and moaned, growling like an animal while Ron slammed into her relentlessly.

 

“Yours, Ron...” she panted, “Your witch, so good, yes... __yours__ , Ron, Oh Gods, __fuck me__!”

 

Pansy’s pure carnal enthusiasm, her libidinous voice submitting herself to him drove Ron to into oblivion.   He dug his hands into her hips with a ferocity that would surely leave its mark, and cried a string of indecipherable obscenities as he came deep within her with an intensity he’d never before experienced.  As Ron continued to move in her with his final thrusts, he felt Pansy grip him again as she came for him a final time.

 

Pansy slumped forwards onto the mattress totally spent and thoroughly fucked. “Yours, Ron. All yours.” Pansy panted, trying to recover her breath. “Gods, Ron that was so fucking __good__.” She felt Ron slip out of her and she moaned softly. Pansy turned onto her back and looked at him, sweaty and smiling and so perfect. “I’m yours, Ron Weasley.”

 

Ron collapsed next to Pansy, watching her breathe in recovery and smile at him.  His own body feeling the after effects of being thoroughly sated spread through him like Firewhiskey.  Ron propped himself up on an elbow and reached over to gently smooth the hair back from her sweaty brow.  

 

“I’m falling in love with you, Ron.” Pansy said, looking over at Ron as she turned to enjoy his touch. “Bloody hell, that complicates things, doesn’t it? I hope you don’t mind so awfully.”

 

Ron leaned over and kissed Pansy’s ripe lips.  “I’m falling in love with you, and I’m used to complicated, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”  Then Ron pulled Pansy on top of him.  He kissed her and held her, ran his fingers delicately up and down her saturated back.  

 

Then Ron’s stomach gave an untimely growl.  He laughed, and said, “Sorry, I’m always hungry, and after that, I’m bloody starving.  How about if we go get that flan?”

 

“I like your appetites, Ron. All of them.” Pansy reached for the nightstand and grabbed her wand. “ _ _Accio__ blanket!” The blanket flew up onto the bed from where it had fallen. Pansy pulled the comfy blanket up over them both and snuggled into Ron. “The flan is done, right? Just get a house elf to bring it to us. I don’t want to get up.” Pansy murmured as she pressed herself against Ron, thoroughly sated.

 

Ron frowned.  He was used to doing things for himself, and calling an elf for something so trivial seemed silly.  But if Pansy was unwilling to move, he didn’t want to leave her side…she was still in bed, naked after all…he wasn’t completely mental. 

 

“All right, Pansy, we can have an elf do it, but ‘er how do you call one?”

 

Pansy rolled her eyes, and pointed to the call bell.  “All professors have call bells, Ron.”  Ron reached over the nightstand and gave the rope a tug.  

 

Pop!  One of the Hogwart’s elves appeared and bowed.  Ron directed the elf to go fetch the flan, and at the last second he asked for a steaming plate of meat, carrots and potatoes too.  The elf bowed again and vanished with a pop.

 

Pansy was dimly aware of Ron following her advice, and she smiled. She sighed against his shoulder, not raising her head. Her earlier thoughts of licking the flan off of him, or he doing the same to her, still swam in her mind and she wriggled against Ron at the thought of it.

 

The elf returned, bowed deeply and set the food tray on the nightstand before disappearing.  Ron eagerly polished off his dinner plate and then moved on to the flan.  He cut a slice for Pansy and then himself.  Just as he was about to bring the first bite to his mouth he turned to look at Pansy.  Her skin was still glowing and flushed and __she__ looked too delicious to pass up.  Ron faced Pansy and let the flan that was on his fork slide off just above her right breast.  “Oops!” He feigned with innocent sarcasm, “how clumsy of me,” lowering his mouth to retrieve the flan from Pansy’s skin.

 

“Bloody hell, Weasley, it’s a wonder that you lot win any Quidditch games at all, clumsy as you are.” Pansy smirked, because she knew it hadn’t been an accident. She set the plate with her unfinished flan down on the nightstand and turned back to Ron, tilting her head and arching her back, pushing her chest towards Ron.  

 

Ron made his tongue flat and wide to lick in broad strokes around Pansy’s breast and neck to collect the flan in his mouth.  He swallowed his bite and let his tongue playfully find its way up to her lips.  He gave her a few hot, deep kisses and then pulled away to cut another piece of flan and delicately fed it to her, watching her tongue and lips closely as she gathered it from the fork.  

 

Pansy let her tongue swirl all around the slippery confection as it hung on the end of the fork that Ron offered, letting him remember how it felt when she used her tongue on the tip of his cock. She sucked the flan off of the fork and into her mouth delicately, making a show of it for Ron, and she felt herself getting a little excited, too. Pansy reached over to the plate and cut a small piece of flan, and didn’t bother with a fork, holding it with her fingertips. She brought the flan up to Ron’s lips and spread it out around his mouth, and then drew a trail of sticky flan down Ron’s neck. She pressed the flan to Ron’s lips, offering it to him as she attacked the sweet mess on his neck, tasting the sticky confection and his sweat, moaning and rubbing her legs together as she did so.

 

Ron sucked the flan from Pansy’s fingers and groaned as he felt her tongue laving over his neck.  He could only think of how amazing it would be to taste their combined fluids on his fingers.  So he reached down between Pansy’s legs, scooped up the evidence of their orgasms and when she slid her fingers from his mouth, he tasted them.  Divine.  Seeing the greedy look in Pansy’s eyes, he reached down with his other hand to do the same, and offered his fingers to her.  He watched her devour their juices and felt new twitches of desire as her tongue worked his fingers with precision.  “Oohhh Pansy…” Ron moaned as he rolled her over and vowed to find a way to sneak her into his room, for there was no way he could go a night without her in his arms.  

 


	4. Chapter 4

It had been two days since Ron had spent the night with Pansy in Slughorn’s old quarters, and he was dying to be alone with her in his room, and he recently figured out how to sneak her in. Earlier that day, Ron hastily scrawled Pansy an owl, telling her to meet him by the portrait of the Fat Lady that guarded the Gryffindor common room at midnight.

As the time to meet Pansy approached, Ron made his way through the Gryffindor common room. Glancing around he noticed only a few students remaining, which would make his plan easier. As he neared the backside of the portrait, he fingered the object in his pocket that would allow him to bring Pansy up to his room unnoticed.

Pansy stood in front of the mirror in the Slytherin Girl’s dormitory and blushed in spite of herself. She was wearing her normal school robe over... well, practically nothing, honestly. She looked her body up and down, and straightened her stockings one last time, satisfied.

“Who’s the lucky wizard... or is it a witch?” her mirror teased.

“It’s a wizard, you nosy mirror. And his name...” Pansy exhaled deeply, “is Ron Weasley.”

“Ron Weasley? The blood traitor?” the mirror taunted.

Pansy’s face screwed up with rage. She stepped towards the mirror and without warning, smashed it with the heel of her palm. The mirror gave a strangled, brittle cry of anguish and then was silent, its enchantment broken. Pansy healed the cut in her hand and put her wand away in her robe. She spared a final glance at the shattered face of the mirror, and imagined the faces who would suffer the same fate, if they dared to stand in her way or insult Ron.

Pansy wasn’t above using her Prefect badge to do whatever she could get away with, and tonight was no exception as she ascended the floors of the school to the seventh floor. Any who had the nerve to question her presence on this side of the castle were met with a wicked glare and a curt, “Prefect business, mind your manners or I’ll report you.”

Finding the portrait to the Gryffindor common room as Ron had indicated was easy, and Pansy felt relief and lust wash over her knowing she was about to see him again. Gods, it had been two days too long and her whole body ached for his touch.

Ron opened the portrait, and looked out to see Pansy approaching. Perfect timing. He stepped out, and grasped her hand, “Just don’t let go, and keep quiet, all right?”

Pansy nodded and remained quiet as Ron had asked. He was _really_ sexy when he was being sneaky. Pansy felt another rush of arousal as Ron took her hand, holding it firmly, and she imagined that hand in other places... cupping her breast, roaming over her thigh and her arse, caressing her back, her neck... Pansy shivered with need as Ron led her.

Ron reached into his pocket and gave the Deluminator a swift click. All the lights from the common room vanished. Ron tugged on Pansy’s arm and led her through the darkness. He could hear his fellow Gryffindors swear and gasp in confusion. Ron managed to lead Pansy to the steps leading to the boys’ dorm without tripping over anything. Once they were part way up the stairs, he clicked the Deluminator again, restoring all light to the common room.

They sprinted up the remainder of the stairs, down the hall into Ron’s room. He quickly shut the door behind them, and locked it. Without giving Pansy the chance to speak or take in her surroundings, he pushed her back against the door and with one quick motion of his right hand, released her robes. They fell to the floor and Ron’s eyes roamed hungrily over Pansy. Much to his delight, she wore only a sheer green bra with lace trim and matching knickers, which Ron could see with pride, were wet for him already.

The patience Ron had been working hard to develop was forgotten tonight. He crushed Pansy into the door; every inch of his needy body was pressed against her own. He could think only of spreading her silken thighs and planting himself deep inside her.

Pansy moaned so loud she feared they would be caught, but she didn’t care. Let them see. Let them try to get this door open, with Ron pushing her against it so hard and insistent... Ron’s hands found hers and he lifted her arms over her head, pinning them to the door, and she arched into him, attacking his tongue hungrily with her own as he plundered her mouth. Pansy writhed against Ron and he lifted her leg, rubbing the inside of her thigh against the outside of his, she wished for a moment he would take her _right there_ , cup her arse and lift her against the door, pull her dripping knickers to the side and sheath himself in her eager wetness without any more to-do...

Ron scooped Pansy up and carried her over to the center of his bed pinning her there with his weight. He didn’t want to wait for anything, it had only been a couple days, but his body missed hers desperately. Ron pulled his shirt over his head, and kicked out of his trousers with incredible speed. By the time he’d finished disrobing, Pansy laid before him completely and gloriously naked.

While his tongue assaulted hers, Ron slid his hands under Pansy’s head and gripped her hair. He gave it a less vigorous tug than he had in Slughorn’s room, but with enough force that her head arched sharply back, exposing her neck fully to him. He moved one hand from behind her head, and in contrast to his recent blunt move, he used his fingertips to lightly brush the flesh of her neck. He could feel Pansy’s rapid, shallow breaths against his chest, indicating she didn’t know what to expect from him next.

Ron targeted the pulse point fluttering in her neck and began to suck it, hard. His mouth moved all over her neck, leaving little purple marks while his lips intermittently drug across her skin, letting his hot breath cover the saliva his mouth had left.

Pansy had never been this aroused or excited in her life. Ron made her feel so desirable, like an object of unbridled lust and overwhelming affection and Pansy found herself wondering how on earth he _did_ that... he objectified her and worshipped her all at once, and he was so unpredictable right now, her heart pounded in her chest in anticipation.

Ron then rolled them over, so that Pansy was lying on top of him. He moaned with pleasure into her mouth as his tongue did wicked things to hers. Ron ran his hands down her back, feeling her ribcage through her skin, then the curve of her waist, and then the roundness of her arse. He gripped her there, and pulled back from her mouth enough to say, “Pansy, I need you…Now.”

“Not half as bad as I need you, Ron.” Pansy sat up and straddled Ron properly. She moved so that the head of Ron’s cock was barely touching her entrance and she put her hands on his chest, rubbing the head of his shaft against her smooth labia, delighting in the feel of him, so hard and so _insistent_... finally she sank down onto him, far too slowly, inch by maddening inch as she took Ron’s hardness deep inside of her, and then sat down hard.

Ron shut his eyes and hissed from the sensation of feeling Pansy slide herself down his throbbing cock. Two days without Pansy was two days too long. She looked like an absolute Goddess as she slowly began to pull herself up and down his length. Her hair was snarled into the sexy mess he loved, and when she looked into his face her expression communicated, _you’re in trouble now, my Gryffindor._

Ron reached for her breasts, as they swayed and bounced before him. He enveloped one in each hand and massaged them in his palms while Pansy continued to move up and down.

“Gods, Pansy, every inch of you grips me perfectly,” Ron said in awe. Then he saw Pansy reaching back, resting her hands on his legs.

“Ron, bend your legs. Knees up.” When he did so, Pansy clasped her hands over his knees and leaned further back. She looked down, seeing Ron disappearing into her in slow, firm strokes. She held herself steady and Ron thrust up into her, causing little shockwaves of pleasure every time he plunged into her. She looked up at Ron, who had turned his head to look down at the sight of his cock disappearing into Pansy’s tight pussy.

Ron’s entire body threatened to explode. Watching himself recede into the depths of her, feeling the tip of his cock barley brush the tip of her cervix each time he thrust up into her with building intent.

“Ron,” she breathed, as he fucked her steadily, and so maddeningly well, “you’re inside me. Inside my thoughts, too, and my heart, I can feel you even when you’re not there.” Pansy pitched forwards, keeping Ron inside her, and took over the work, rising up and down on his cock in a steady rhythm. Pansy leaned low over Ron and wrapped her arms under his shoulders, embracing him. She kissed him deeply as she moved, plunging her tongue into his mouth. Pansy pressed her forehead against Ron’s, breathing into his open mouth, grinning. “Fuck, that’s good. I’m yours, Ron. They say that you can’t base a relationship on sex, but sweet Merlin, I’ll take my chances.”

Ron claimed her lips for an instant and then barely managed to reply, “Pansy, so will I.” Ron could feel himself teetering on the edge, so he put his hands on Pansy’s shoulders and eased her back upright. She increased her pace and Ron placed one hand on her hips and the other on her stomach, letting his thumb rest on the side of her clit, rubbing it in rhythm with their thrusting. Ron closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her wrapped around him. _She was his._ He could feel her quivering against his hand and begin to clench around his cock. With a few more thrusts, he threw his head to the side, grunted and roared while he heard Pansy scream from her own release.

Pansy remained sitting astride him as she caught her breath, and then leaned down, pressing her breasts into his sweaty chest. They breathed in recovery together, and Ron never wanted her to move. He wanted to remain inside her forever. Eventually, Pansy rolled off, next to Ron, and he gathered her to him.

They slept briefly, and Ron awoke feeling chilled. As he was pulling a blanket over them, Pansy opened her eyes too. She looked around and grabbed Ron’s pajama top and threw it over her head. Ron put on the bottoms, gave her a kiss and teased, “You look stunning in scarlet and gold, my love.”

Pansy smiled and pursed her lips, her brow furrowing as she looked at Ron, then thought of how to begin with the things she wanted to tell him. She was about to bring up a lot of sensitive things, and some of it might actually make Ron angry, if she phrased it incorrectly. She gathered her thoughts, stood at the side of the bed, and began.

“Ron, it’s high time I revealed my plan to you. We Slytherins plan everything. I just hope... that it’s not too overwhelming or sudden and that you see the merit of it and you agree.”

Ron frowned, _she had a plan_? He wondered how long she’d had this plan, was it part of the reason she’d contacted him initially, and was just now going to reveal the rest of it? Or was this something new, something she’d devised since Malfoy decided to push her away? Ron decided to do his best to hear Pansy out and not interrupt.

“It all hinges on the Black Question.” Pansy began. “Bellatrix and Narcissa Black, and their sister, Andromeda. Of the three, only Andromeda is regarded as a blood traitor. Why? Because she married a Muggle-born, Ted Tonks. In Bellatrix and Narcissa’s minds, Andromeda’s actions are shameful, but their effects in Pureblooded society only extend to her and her alone, not to her sisters. Why?”

Ron shrugged, he’d not given the topic nor the Black sisters much previous thought.

“This leads me into my next question. Your family, the Weasley family, was branded blood traitor well over a century ago. If you are so publicly branded blood traitor, why, then, do you remain Purebloods? It’s not an accident your father took a Prewett for a wife, and you even have a Black for an ancestor. If your family did not care about remaining Purebloods, why have they?”

Ron had never considered that his parents may have sought each other because they were both Purebloods; it seemed to Ron they didn’t seem to care about such things. He just assumed it a coincidence that they married because they fell in love.

Pansy pressed on with her explanations, and she hoped that Ron’s silence meant he was paying attention, He didn’t seem _too_ angry... “And that, of course, brings us back to the Black Question. They made a big show of disowning those who did not cleave to the family line. Pureblood supremacy, at any cost, even disowning your own family members. I’ve never been to the Black ancestral home, but I’m told there are scorch marks on the family tree, marking those who were ostracized for being blood traitors.

Ron interjected, “Yeah, that’s true. I’ve been there a few times, and seen the tapestry, scorch marks and all.”

Pansy continued, “The Blacks were so adamant about this ideal that they shunned those who violated it. But the Weasleys didn’t. Every generation, at least one Weasley man married a Pureblood, whatever his siblings did, and so the line was kept pure... and the Weasleys never ostracized anybody. Your father has half-blooded cousins, doesn’t he? You all still talk and you’re all family, even the half-blooded Weasleys.”

“Yes,” Ron answered and snorted with a hint of disgust. “Of course we all get along, I mean, it’s really not important to us, we place value on other things, like unconditional love, above some sort of archaic blood purity lineage nonsense.”

Pansy nodded and proceeded with caution. “So, then, what defines a Blood Traitor? Are you a blood traitor merely because you’re a Weasley, and the Weasleys are all blood traitors, or is there some wider definition? Are you a blood traitor because you choose to speak to your half-blooded relatives? Are Percy and Bill blood traitors, for marrying a half-blood and a half-veela?”

“It is my belief, that you are only a Blood Traitor if you _want_ to be. Your family accepted that brand without argument, and didn’t care what people said. Others, like the Blacks, fought tooth and nail and hurt their own for the sake of their ideals. Other Pureblooded families looked down on the Weasleys for their choices. And lots of other reasons, too, but I’m in love with you so I’m not going to repeat the terrible things people say about your family at parties.”

Ron fought hard to keep his mouth shut. Where was she going with all of this anyway? She just told him she’d spent a lifetime listening to her social circle speaking ill of his family, and that his family is considered traitors because they _want_ to be, and that she is telling him this because she _loves_ him? A Slytherin indeed, what is in it for her, he wondered?

“Ron, if you marry a Pureblood, how, then, are you a blood traitor? You are preserving your Pureblood line. The other Weasley men may or may not marry Purebloods, because no one in your family would dare tell them who to love, or marry. If you marry a fine, upstanding Pureblooded witch, who would gainsay your status legitimately, if you but claimed it?”

Ron shrugged again, he wasn’t sure what to say. He’d never thought about any of this before, it simply wasn’t something his family discussed, nor did he consider it of any importance. He always planned to marry whomever he fell in love with. End of story. If she happened to be a Pureblood, he didn’t expect it to come with the expectation of changing his social status image to those who chose to place value on such ridiculous things.

Pansy pressed on. “Your family gave up on politics long ago, for lots of reasons. But now is the _best_ time to get back in. Things can change, if those with the courage and the power and the ambition to change them do the right thing. They will listen to you, if you know how to make them. You’re a war hero and you’re Harry Potter’s best friend. You’ve seen first-hand the damage that doing _nothing_ can do.”

Ron couldn’t help himself, “I appreciate that you see me as some sort of wizard with potential political clout, given my recent involvement in the war and association with Harry, but what you said is true. My family and I care little for these sorts of things. I’d think that now, with Voldemort gone, the importance of blood status will fade even more, what exactly do you think needs to change? Are you saying you’re interested in giving up your family’s ideals of Pureblood supremacy and looking to teach tolerance of those with mixed blood status? And that because my family is considered blood traitors that I can help you with that?”

 

Pansy shook her head. “The aristocracy will never really go away, Ron. And there are better ways to preserve Pureblooded status than murder and genocide. I’m interested in giving up the murderous and Dark aspects of my family’s ideals. I’m interested in changing Pureblooded society from within, and yes, that does include tolerance, and focusing on preservation without supremacy. And it’s not your family, Ron, it’s you specifically.”   
  
“I can’t do any of these things with Draco, and now, I realize that he wouldn’t have wanted to, anyhow. He’ll always be a Death Eater, in a lot of people’s eyes. In addition to pushing me away, which really started over a year ago, he’s completely unsuitable for my purposes. I need a war hero. I need you.” Pansy paused, and tried to think of the best way to talk about the negative things. “Now, for the drawbacks.”  
  
Ron cringed; they hadn’t gotten to the _drawbacks_ yet?  
  
“This may cause some strain between you and your family. I’m going to be as polite to them as I can be. In spite of everything that’s happened, I bear your family no animosity, and I’m prepared to put on an apron and help your mother in the kitchen at family gatherings. Cooking is a lot like Potions, really. And... I’ll apologize for the things I said. Constantly. Until they tell me to stop, because my groveling is so embarrassing.”  
  
Ron smiled at that in spite of himself and Pansy admired his courage, sitting here listening to all of this. “You’re going to hear all of the things that people say, right to your face, a lot, when we’re trying to change their minds. The Weasley name is respected by the common folk, but it’s not the common folk we are going to try to move. It’s the snobs and racists we need to convince, and they will say horrible things. You’ll just have to be ready for it and not lose your head.”  
  
Pansy took a deep breath at this next bit. “I’m going to be called names, and worse, for marrying you. People will say I’m daft and that you bewitched me. All the things I mentioned they will say about you, goes for me as well. I guess the point is, people are going to say awful things, to bait your temper.”   
  
Pansy pointed away from her, to some point in the distance that held an unrealized threat. “Right now, there’s another Dark Lord on the rise, plotting to use the Purebloods as his army, and supremacy as his battle cry. The only way to stop this from happening again is to change the culture that created it, for the better, so that madness cannot take root.” Pansy looked at Ron, her eyes searching for approval. “Ron, will you fight for the future of wizarding society with me at your side?”  
  
Ron remained still. stunned by everything Pansy had just laid out. It was obvious she had given this a lot of thought and was quite passionate about it, but he felt like she wanted to use him to push her own political agenda. He really had no desire to get involved in Pureblood politics. Is this why she latched on to him, the tarnished Pureblood, so quickly after Malfoy, _the wizard who was unsuitable for her purposes_ , broke up with her?   
  
And what was all this about them getting married? They’d only been together a couple of weeks, and while he was starting to appreciate her for the person she’d become, it had been largely physical. Almost an exhilarated reaction to feeling entrapped, to a certain extent, by their previous partners.   
  
Ron pressed his lips together, and decided the less he said the better, because there was plenty he wanted to say and he could see himself getting ugly. So, he took a deep breath and said with what he hoped was an even voice, “It seems like you’ve given all of this a lot of thought, Pansy. I need some time to think about everything you said before I can give you any sort of answer.”  
  
Pansy nodded, and was expecting as much. He was so... conflicted, and she didn’t need magic to tell her that. This was all very sensitive and very far-reaching stuff, and Ron was obviously holding a lot in. “I’ve given you a lot of thought, Ron.” she replied, and crawled back into bed with him, snuggling up against his warm, taut body. _At least we’ll always get the physical part right_ , she thought as she pressed against him and they drifted off to sleep.  
  
When Ron awoke, he found Pansy crying. He’d seen her cry before, but this was different. She was sitting at his desk wearing only his pajama top. Gods, she looked sexy in his clothes, he thought briefly as he got up to comfort her. _Tears again, he really hated tears._ Ron walked over and stood directly in front of her, stroking her hair, “Why are you upset?”  
  
“I ruined it, didn’t I?” she sobbed, putting her arms around his waist as he let her lean against him, and she sobbed against his thigh. “I bloody well ruined it, we have such a good thing going and I had to open my stupid, highborn _mouth_ and just ruin _everything...”_ Pansy tried to relax but the sobs wracked her body. Ron’s hands gently continued caressing her back and her hair, but it was barely enough to stop the flood.  
  
Pansy looked up at him, those clear blue eyes, so honest, shining with worry and apprehension and desire. Pansy could look into those eyes for a lifetime and never tire of what she found there. Ron was the one, even if he didn’t want what she wanted...  
  
Ron retrieved a handkerchief and gently began to wipe her face. “Look, Pansy, it’s like I said, you’ve obviously given this a lot of thought, and I just need time to catch up.” Ron put the handkerchief down and crouched before her, cupping her face and running his rough thumbs tenderly over her cheeks. “I need time to think, and I don’t want to run my mouth before I’m sure about what I want to say. But I can’t help but think that you chose to get involved with me because I fit the profile for your political agenda.”  
  
“You’re not an object to me, Ron. I respect you and I’m falling in love with you. You and I can change things, things that really need to be changed, so the tragedy of what happened never happens again...” Pansy looked up at Ron, her eyes swimming, and she knew she had to say it. “I love you, Ron Weasley. And…I’ll be yours, if you’ll have me, even if you _don’t_ want anything to do with what I said.”

Ron sighed and pulled Pansy to her feet. “Come back to bed with me.” Once he had her securely tucked into him, he said, “Pansy, I do want you. I don’t want you to be afraid to speak your mind around me. I think I’ve made it plain that I want you to be yourself when we’re in bed together, and I want you to be yourself when we’re not too. If we are going to be together awhile, it’s going to take more than fucking incredible sex to make it work.” Ron pulled her tighter and said, “Just give me some time to sort this all out.”  
  
Pansy nodded, and let Ron gather her up and carry her back to bed. He was so strong, and so warm. She felt safe with Ron and that’s the thing that really mattered. She had a strange image of her in a hovel like what she imagined the Weasley home must look like, with a dozen kids running around, and her working in the kitchen like a simple witch and taking one look at Ron and being so _happy_... there were different ways to be rich. There had to be.


	5. Chapter 5

Ron’s head was still full as he headed to breakfast in the Great Hall after spending the weekend at the burrow. He’d gone home to speak with his father and give serious thought to everything Pansy had said about pureblood politics. Ron didn’t want to believe that Pansy could be right about the possibility of a new central figure working to rally the purebloods into more genocidal actions in the name of supremacy and wanted his father’s down to earth insight as to what the environment was like at the Ministry.

Pansy bit her lip as she waited at the Gryffindor table, trying not to look nervous as she smiled and smirked at Ron’s housemates. She was expecting to see Ron any moment now and the last thing she wanted was for him to see how agitated she’d become in his absence over the weekend.

Ron sat down to breakfast next to Pansy and pondered if he really wanted to be involved in this…any of this…politics, Pansy, purebloods. “Hello Love,” he said wrapping his arm around her waist and giving her a quick kiss.

Pansy melted against Ron’s side after he sat down, leaning into him heavily as she watched him pile food onto his plate. She drank in Ron’s scent and warmth for a few moments before she straightened up again and began to fill her own plate. Ron’s appetite was contagious, and she knew, with a slight blush, that she was going to need the energy for tonight...

Ron piled food on his plate and continued to think. _I do want to be an Auror and that means I need to sort out exactly what I would be fighting for._ Was his battle now to change pureblood society from within? Pansy said he was the right person for this cause because he was a war hero and Harry Potter’s best friend. Ron smiled at Pansy, _gods she looked good_.

“I missed you this weekend,” he said with his gaze resting on her full, pouty lips. He still couldn’t help but think there was more, that Pansy had ulterior motives.

Things had been a little strained since Pansy had told him of her grand plan. They had managed to get in a good snog and a grope here and there, but they hadn’t shagged and it made Pansy ache. To make matters worse, Ron had seemed distant and moody and Pansy just knew it was because of the heavy load she had laid upon him. In Pansy’s world, pulling strings and making plans were commonplace. Not so for Ron, she mused.

“Can you see me tonight?” Pansy asked suddenly. She cursed her eagerness, and her cool demeanor was overshadowed by her longing. “There’s a classroom on the fifth floor that’s not in use, I thought you could help me... with my homework.” Pansy bit her finger and grinned wickedly.

Ron glanced sideways at Pansy and rested his hand on her thigh and replied, “Sure,” between healthy bites.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Pansy was waiting for her wizard. She’d never done much waiting before now, she mused, and she wondered why she was making exceptions as she took a long drag on her cigarette. It was her second since she’d been waiting, and she really had no reason to be nervous, so it had to be something else. Excitement; that was it, the thought of Ron touching her, kissing her, groaning her name as he thrust into her... it was enough to make any witch tingle, and Pansy realized she was no exception. She shook her head in disbelief and amusement as a smile played across her lips.

Pansy still questioned her feelings, and her attraction, to Ron. The cold, calculating part of her mind had it all planned out in Slytherin fashion, of course; she was using Ron to survive, because he was a hero and he would be protected, and it all made perfect sense. She would use the clout and the influence that were Ron’s for the taking when he left school, to advance her position and change things, all the while benefiting from those changes and taking the credit for making them.

But, every time she made her heart go cold, every time she _tried_ to view Ron as the object she so loudly claimed he was not – she couldn’t. Ron disarmed her, with boyish charm and endearing strength. Ron got under her skin and made her do things she never would have considered before. Things like telling the truth, or laying all her cards on the table. Ron melted Pansy’s ice.

Pansy realized she wasn’t saying ‘I love you’ to make Ron believe it. She was beginning to believe it herself... and that was the scary part.

“I ached from missing you,” Pansy told the abandoned classroom, as she swung her feet back and forth from her perch on the desk. “I longed for you, I thought about you all the time. And...” she admitted to the dusty desks and tables, blushing, “I masturbated _way_ too much. I kept Tracey Davis awake, frigging myself, and it was so bad she offered to help once or twice.” Pansy crushed her cigarette out on the desk, burning a neat hole in the surface, and then freshened her breath with a charm. Pansy heard a noise at the door and looked up. “Ron?” She called out, heart thumping all of a sudden.

Ron walked into the classroom, flicked his wand behind his back to lock the door, cast a silencing charm and grinned to see Pansy sitting on the desk, swinging her legs back and forth like some sort of innocent schoolgirl. The contrast of her pose, combined with the look of pure lust on her beautiful face, made Ron’s stomach lurch and his groin instantly tighten. Despite the thoughts weighing heavily on his mind, he’d missed her terribly and couldn’t stand another minute without feeling her sensual body pressed against his. Without wasting time speaking, he made straight for Pansy, put his hands on her knees and impatiently parted her legs, slid his hips close to hers, and then embraced her with his arms.

Pansy wrapped her arms around Ron’s neck and her legs around his waist, pulling him into a tight embrace. “I missed you,” she breathed against his neck as she felt his hands on her back and in her hair. Pansy kissed Ron’s neck thoroughly, sucking and biting at the tender flesh of his throat.

“Me too,” Ron answered, letting her have her way with his neck. Her lips were hot and needy, he had missed her, _desperately_ , and he wanted to possess every inch of her at once. Ron’s hands slid down to Pansy’s hips, he gripped them tightly, pulling her closer to him, to his erection, now aching for release from his trousers. “Pansy,” he nearly growled, “I’m never going home again, not without you, I swear…I…” but his mind went blank, he needed to fuck her, now.

Pansy shuffled forwards on the desk until her crotch was pressed against Ron’s. She ground her hips against him shamelessly and moaned low, feeling his hardness straining against his trousers, pressed against her already soaked knickers. _Fuck, he was always ready_ , “Feels like you missed me too,” she grinned up at him.

Ron’s brow tensed and his grip on her tightened when she slid completely against him. He could feel how wet she was even through the layers of clothing between them. Ron tilted his head forward, his mouth dipped and took hers in a passionate kiss that stole his breath and made him feel lightheaded.

Pansy’s head spun from the ferocity of Ron’s kisses, and his insistent body pressed against hers. She moved her hands from Ron’s neck, tracing the strong lines of his shoulders and his chest, kissing him back hotly as her hands found his buckle. She undid his trousers deftly and shoved her hand into them, grasping his rigid cock. Pansy groaned when she felt how hot and hard Ron was, and it was all for her.

Ron inhaled sharply into Pansy’s mouth when he felt her small, warm hand grasp his needy cock. “Pansy…” he moaned, feeling how needy they were for each other. Ron continued to kiss her open-mouthed and eagerly while getting her kit off; letting his hands roam freely over her writhing body.

Pansy freed Ron’s cock from his trousers and stroked it in her palm. She moaned against his tongue when his hands palmed her breasts and his fingers found her nipples, pinching and rubbing them. Pansy put one hand in Ron’s hair, pulling his head closer to hers as she deepened the kiss.

Ron kept teasing one breast while he moved his other hand between her legs. He was desperate to be inside her, far too impatient to remove her drenched knickers, so he slid them to the side and roughly buried his fingers up inside her.

“Gods, Pansy, you’re always so wet for me,” he managed before returning his mouth to hers, this time biting her lower lip after sucking it into his mouth.

“Fuck!” Pansy hissed, as Ron’s fingers found their mark inside her, sliding deeply into her without resistance. She felt her cunt tighten around them as Ron scissored his fingers in and out of her slick channel. Pansy groaned and squirmed, breathing hard and panting obscenities under her breath. It had been less than a week, but Ron’s hands on her were speeding Pansy towards a climax.

“Ron... gods... fuck yes, baby, right there...” Ron found her clit expertly, and Pansy inhaled sharply. Her grip on Ron’s cock tightened as she felt her climax mounting, so fast, Ron made her come so easily...

“Ron, yes, rightthereimgonnacum...” Pansy clutched Ron’s shoulder with her free hand and leaned against him as her orgasm assaulted her senses. She was dimly aware that her hand was still stroking Ron’s cock reflexively as his fingers brought her to her peak. As she recovered, Pansy pulled Ron forwards suggestively, rolling her hips to position the head of his cock against her slick opening.

Ron tucked his hands behind Pansy’s knees, and penetrated her with unrestrained force. He then lifted her effortlessly from the desk with her legs wrapped around his waist and her skirt bunched up around her hips.

Pansy moaned and held on to Ron’s neck as he walked around the desk with her impaled on his shaft, sighing in pleasure as every step he took sent little waves of delight through her body.

Ron devoured Pansy’s lips as he carried her until her back rammed against the blackboard wall, taking her with long hard strokes, making her jolt almost painfully against the blackboard. His thick length pumped mercilessly, repeatedly filling and stretching her tight body. Ron hurt her, thrilled her, and gave her exactly what she wanted. His mouth seared a path over her throat and shoulder only to retrace and take her mouth again, all the while, muttering, groaning, growling from the pleasure he took from her body, loving the way she arched against him and begged for more. And he gave her more, unleashing the darker side of his lust.

Pansy kept her legs wrapped around Ron's waist as he pinned her to the blackboard roughly. Her body tingled from the sensation, his urgency, his power, and she panted against his shoulder. She rubbed her fingers through his hair and exhaled sharply in time with his thrusts. "Yours," she said breathily. "Yours, Ron, I'm yours." Pansy wrapped her arms around Ron tightly, but remained relaxed, drinking in the feeling of being slammed against the blackboard, the feeling of Ron filling her up, over and over, his strong hands cupping her arse. Pansy felt a desire like she'd never felt with Draco; she wanted Ron to dominate her, like he had so brilliantly when he'd fucked her from behind, and the thought of how good that had felt spurred her on.

“Claim me. _Possess_ me, Ron. Mark me,” she moaned, offering her neck to Ron, like she had that day on the pitch, only this time she knew he’d take it.

Ron was lost in the unbelievable sensation of fucking Pansy hard against the blackboard. The mews, moans and words that escaped her lips between sharp inhales each time he drove himself into her were driving him spare. _Mark me_ , he’d heard her say. Ron loved to bite as he came, and now Pansy was pleading for him to do just that. She was so fucking perfect for him. He moved his teeth to her tender, unblemished shoulder and dug his fingers deep into her arse as he held her against the blackboard and fucked her even harder.

Ron was relentless, assaulting Pansy’s neck with his mouth and she gasped, whimpered and cursed as his lips and teeth made their preliminary mark on her flesh. Other parts of Ron’s body were relentless, too, and his thrusts found new force each time she moaned. Pansy’s climax built up momentum, and her eyes went wide from the force of it. She felt herself nearly go limp in surrender, submitting to Ron’s cock driving her senseless, barely keeping her legs around his waist as her orgasm threatened to break her in half.

Pansy screamed Ron’s name... she fucking _screamed_ it, as loud as she could, in a cry of release and surrender. Pansy’s entire body quivered, tingling from the force of her orgasm. She was still pinned to the wall. Ron had momentarily released her neck and he was slamming into her _hard_ , her back hurt but _fuck_ , it felt good to feel his strength.

Pansy whispered encouragements in his ear, softly, still a bit woozy from her climax. “Come on, Ron. Baby, fill me up. I need it.” She kissed his neck and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging Ron against her body.

Ron opened his eyes, and through the spots, he saw Pansy’s sated face, and heard her driving him on. Knowing he’d put that look on her face and made those words come from her mouth brought his body to a feverish peak. He thrust even deeper into her as he spilled his first shot, and bit down hard on her neck. He possessively gripped her everywhere…his fingers bruising her arse, and his teeth holding her flesh, while his cock continued to spill into her as the waves of her recent orgasm milked him dry.

Ron panted, and unclenched his teeth from her neck to rest his sweaty forehead there instead. He was spent, and felt some of his strength draining away, but he relished in being deep in Pansy and having her wilted against his powerful body, so he continued to hold her there. When their breathing finally slowed, he regrettably withdrew and gently lowered her down, one leg at a time.

Now with two feet on the floor, Pansy took a step away from Ron and lifted her skirt, looking down at herself. Her red silk knickers were bunched to the side and she could see the evidence of Ron’s release on the inside of her thigh. Pansy pressed two fingers against her thigh and brought them up towards her center, gathering her and Ron’s fluids and, as he watched, she brought them up to her mouth and licked them off, grinning wickedly. She thought about tasting Ron’s cum, as it oozed from another witch’s opening, and the thought of that made her moan.

Ron stood watching Pansy licking his cum from her fingers, already feeling new tingles of arousal, while she smiled wickedly at him and moaned despite herself. He’d give anything to know exactly what she was thinking, but she’d always be full of surprises.

Ron grasped Pansy by the hand that was not in her mouth and led her over to a couch against the far wall. “ _Scourgify!_ ” he said with a flick of his wand, watching the dust evaporate. He pulled Pansy down onto the couch with him, kissing her softly, tasting himself on her lips. He ran his hands gently up her neck, across her cheeks and through her messy hair. Their embrace was tender and sweet, and Ron could have sworn Pansy was purring.

Pansy broke their kiss and pressed against Ron’s side, very satisfied. She laid her head on his shoulder and rubbed his broad chest idly, looking up at him. She knew she probably looked totally silly right now and she didn’t care. Ron Weasley plastered a satisfied grin on Pansy’s face and she didn’t care who saw it. She got up on one elbow and looked down at Ron, regarding him curiously. “So tell me about your trip, over the weekend. What did you do?”

Ron scooted to tuck one leg under him and turned so he and Pansy were facing each other. He grasped her hands in his and began to run his rough fingers over her tender skin as he spoke. “As you know, I went home to discuss the new political environment you spoke of with my father. Turns out you were dead-on. There are suspicions of an uprising in the works. Those involved are ex-Death Eaters, mostly, purebloods clinging to the notion of keeping bloodlines untainted by purging the wizarding world of ‘undesirables’.”

Pansy frowned and nodded as she listened. Ron would be shocked to learn how many of those witches and wizards had contacted her through clandestine channels, feeling out her allegiance for just such an uprising. “I knew it. It’s all going to happen all over again, Ron, unless someone _does_ something...”

Ron released Pansy’s hands and scooted back, “Give me your foot,” and he began to massage it as he continued. “I’m just not sure how I perceive my role in all of this. You said if I marry a pureblood that I’m preserving the bloodline, but I’m not at all interested in carrying on the ideas that many of them stand for. You said I’m only a blood traitor if I want to be. Honestly, Pansy I don’t feel I should marry a pureblood in the hopes of turning my branch of the Weasley tree away from my ‘traitor’ family members who were given that label by a group of elitists I despise.”

Pansy pointed her toes and moaned a little in spite of herself, at the selfless act that Ron was performing. No one had ever just started to massage her like this, and it was making it difficult to concentrate on what he was saying. “Don’t marry a pureblood because it means that you’re giving in. Marry...” Pansy hesitated here, looking up at Ron for approval, “marry me because you love me, and you want to change things. Everything else will sort itself out.”

Ron let his hands travel up and he worked on Pansy’s calf. She squirmed in spite of herself, and if his actions weren’t so casual Pansy would have sworn that Ron was trying to distract her on purpose. “Marry _you_ and everything will just sort itself out eh?” He replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“Well, you know what I mean, I hope.” Pansy turned her ankle so that Ron could rub the inside of her calf and she sighed again, enjoying the contact. “I just think that together, the two of us could accomplish so much. My connections with the Ministry and pureblooded society, along with your good name and your record... It’s a potent combination for change.” _And survival_ , Pansy thought, and moaned again from Ron’s hands, all the while wondering how he _did that_...

Ron eyed Pansy closely and scooted forward. His hands worked their way above her knee, his touch now lighter, teasing the flesh on the inside of her lower thigh, causing goose bumps to appear. He licked his lips, watching her, and put one hand on each of her tender thighs. He felt them quiver and part further as he continued with teasing caresses and reached between Pansy’s open knees to slide her red silken knickers off while he settled his hips into hers and pressed her back into the couch with his chest.

Ron kissed her mouth hungrily, and nudged her neck to the side. He trailed his tongue across her neck, over the angry bite mark he’d left and then up her ear and whispered with hot breath…”I need you again, Pansy,” as he reached for his now swollen cock, straining against her cum soaked thigh and then drove into her, _hard_.

Pansy looked up at Ron, her mouth falling open slightly as he penetrated her. She inhaled sharply as he sheathed himself inside of her again, so soon, so desperate to take her again, and she smiled.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, Ron.” Her body said _yes_ to his, rolling her hips in time with his thrusts, caressing him, feeling him press his body against her just so, like he did that first time they made love. He was so bloody brilliant, and so good, and Pansy wrapped her legs around him tight, holding Ron against her.

Ron crushed her further into the couch with his weight, his mouth possessing hers, and his hands tugging on the strands of her hair between his fists. He felt her hands desperately clawing his back while she brought her legs up to crush his ribs between them and he groaned, feeling himself wrapped within her and marveled how she could still feel so tight, already overly slick from him spilling in her just minutes before.

Pansy couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face, and she was certain she looked silly. Pansy sighed contentedly and moved with Ron, and honestly, she didn’t have to do anything in this position and that was what was so good about being fucked by Ron. He saw to them both and she just laid back and enjoyed it, touching him and moaning her satisfaction.

Ron was only moments away from his second release, and could already feel Pansy tensing around him when he looked directly into her eyes, and he narrowed his, issuing her a challenge, who could hold out longer?

Pansy saw the challenge in Ron’s eyes and tilted her head up to his ear. She wanted something different – something mutual. “Cum with me, Ron, you feel... so fucking good, inside me, baby. Come on, that’s it.”

Pansy continued to whisper filthy encouragements in Ron’s ear, digging her nails into his back, clutching at his shoulder blades as his thrusts drove her to the edge and over. She moaned his name and cursed. “Fuck me, Ron, yes... I’m gonna cum, Ron.”

Pansy felt her release approaching fast, as she tightened around Ron’s hard shaft. Her eyes swam with a blur of copper and freckles and the lusty, abandoned gaze in Ron’s gorgeous blue eyes. She let her head fall back against the couch and she smiled up at him crookedly as she came. “Yes, Ron, come with me,” she exhaled, almost a whisper, as Ron’s cock plowed her into oblivion. She saw stars behind her eyelids as they fluttered reflexively, and her mouth fell open in an expression of bliss. Pansy moaned loudly as her release washed over her and she was aware that Ron was groaning and thrashing, his cock throbbing deep inside her with his own release. She felt the swell of his shaft as he pumped his spunk into her tight channel and she moaned Ron’s name as he filled her up.

Ron met her angle on his challenge. He held himself back until saw her eyes flutter, her lips part and her unmistakable groan of release echoed in his ears. The release that resulted from making himself wait a bit longer was incredible and he came harder, if that was possible, than he had only moments before when he had pinned her against the wall.

Then Ron’s arms gave way, and he fell into Pansy. His face resting in the crook of her neck, and she smelled just perfect, slightly like vanilla and overwhelmingly like sex. He licked some of the salty sweat from her skin and brought his tongue to her mouth, kissing her, thanking her for being his and for being exactly who she was.

A few tears rolled out of Pansy’s eyes, from the strong feelings she was having just then as Ron praised her and thanked her, but she did not sob. She held Ron down against her tightly, and returned his sentiments. “I’m yours, Ron, thick and thin. I love you.” She said, hugging him tight.

Ron hugged her back, and rubbed the tears that escaped her eyes against his own cheek, and whispered, “I’ll always love you too.”

Pansy was so happy, hearing Ron say those words that Draco had never said. She kissed Ron’s neck and pulled him down tighter, arching up against his warm, sweaty body. Hugging Ron tighter, feeling him pressing her down, caused Pansy to become keenly aware of her sex, and Ron’s pelvis against hers just so... and that Ron’s cock was still buried inside her, and…he was still _hard_.

“Ooooooh...” Pansy moaned, rolling her hips as she looked up at Ron. She kissed him a few times, quickly, undulating beneath him, smiling. “You feel... sooo good inside me, Ron.” She had a wicked idea – it was selfish, she knew, but it felt too good to let it go, if Ron could do it.

“Ron, will you... keep going? Stay inside me, Ron. Fuck me slow. Make me cum again, Ron.”

Ron pulled his head back and looked at Pansy with disbelief. _Was she serious?_ True, he hadn’t become flaccid yet, but he’d never considered trying something like this before.

“Are you issuing me a challenge, Miss Parkinson?” Ron asked with a raised brow.

“Mmmm-hummm,” Pansy responded while grinding against him with a greater intensity and contracting herself around him just enough to increase the friction he felt.

Ron began to ease himself in and out of Pansy again. The tighter grip she forced around him felt so bloody amazing, and he wanted to do this for her, he could never leave her still wanting more.

Pansy caressed Ron and kissed him tenderly as he moved, thrusting in and out of her slowly, steadily, and Pansy saw that his eyes were dancing with lust and his feelings for her, and it all felt so _good_ , Ron Weasley was warm, and hard, and hers and _gods_ , she was going to cum again...

“You’re the best, Ron,” she urged, caressing his back gently, running her hands over his sides. Every time he thrust home, she moaned and cursed, or exhaled sensually, or praised him. “Right there... Gods, yes Ron... so good... I’m your witch, Ron... Fuck me... so good...” Pansy’s litany of praise and moans continued as Ron slid in and out of her slowly, so hard, filling her up and making her feel alive.

Pansy could feel Ron throbbing deep inside of her and he felt so strong, she felt the beginnings of the climax that she urged him for. Ron kept the same pace and the steady rhythm of his thrusts drove Pansy higher, closer, tighter, gripping his shaft within her as her pleasure pooled in her center and spread outwards, driven by Ron’s thrusts, slow, steady, like his throbbing heartbeat, so perfect, so _right_ , and Pansy exhaled softly against his neck and came, tightening around his member and moaning as her release washed over her.

Ron watched Pansy’s gorgeous, sweaty, flushed face as she came again under him. Merlin, she was libidinous. Ron certainly had his hands full, but he swore he would gratify her each and every time. Ron now drove himself into her harder, pushing himself to find the means for his own release. His back and groin tingled with promise, so he continued, focusing on how tight she felt and her words of encouragement.

Ron then felt his body jolt, feeling the pleasurable relief he sought. Ron was vaguely aware of feeling Pansy either still contracting or contracting again around him. He laughed to himself, how many times was that for her now, four? Five? _Yeah, he was in serious trouble._

Exhausted and thoroughly spent, Ron rolled off of Pansy, and nearly off the couch. He felt Pansy’s arm wrap tightly around his torso as she rescued him from crashing unceremoniously to the floor. Ron knelt next to Pansy; now looking completely relaxed and properly fucked.

Pansy kissed Ron’s forehead as he knelt beside her, where he had nearly fallen off of the couch. She pulled him up beside her and they embraced, laughing. She curled up next to him again and, if possible, she was even more sated than before. “I don’t want to get up.” Pansy stated, matter-of-factly. “I want to stay with you on this mangy old couch and make love to you till we’re sore.”

Ron playfully rolled his eyes, laughed and squeezed Pansy tighter. “I’m starting to think it would take two or three of me to make love to you enough to make you sore.” Then Ron kissed Pansy on the tip of her nose.

Pansy sighed and stretched languorously, and stood up, groaning as the stretch took over her body. She stood on her tiptoes and delighted in all the places that she really was sore - her bum, her neck, her back and other, more intimate places that sang with Ron’s presence. Pansy exhaled contentedly and gathered up her knickers, putting them on as Ron found his trousers.

They finished dressing. Their clothing was crumpled, their hair messy and their skin flushed. Despite attempts to smooth over their appearances, it was quite obvious what they’d just been up to. Pansy’s disheveled appearance also reminded him of how she looked after a good round of Quidditch practice, and it reminded him that they would face off against each other this weekend when their Houses played each other.

With the match on his mind, Ron pulled his little minx into his chest and gave her a heated kiss. “Would you be up for running some drills before the match this week?”


	6. Chapter 6

The first Quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin had been underway for nearly an hour with Gryffindor leading 240 – 160.  At first it looked like the match might end quickly with Draco and Harry giving the snitch a good chase.  But for the past 45 minutes, the snitch had been elusive and both seekers settled into a pattern of circling around the pitch opposite each other, eagerly watching for the little golden ball as well as any moves by the other that would indicate the snitch had been spotted.

 

Harry, growing frustrated by the snitch’s evasiveness, was having a hard time remaining focused on the match and Malfoy alone.  His mind was starting to wander as his eyes kept falling on either Hermione in the stands or Ginny giving her all as Chaser.  Harry couldn’t help but think of how lucky he was to have them both in his life…and to have had them both in his bed.

 

Eying the stands, once again he saw his best friend and now lover.  He was finally starting to believe that it could work out between them.  Hermione and Ron were the most supportive and consistent companions in his life and Harry knew Hermione truly understood him – for she had been by his side through nearly everything he’d experienced and endured these past seven years.  She was so strong, compassionate and beautiful and he was feeling more confident that he was now _in_ love with her and it was right.  

 

Harry forced his attention back to the game to see Ginny bearing down on her broom and nearly blatching Pansy.  His pulse quickened, watching her in action.  Everything about her was vivacious and passionate.  He still felt remorse that it didn’t work out between them. Harry cared for her, loved her, but outside the bedroom they never quite clicked.  He felt the blood course strongly through his veins as he remembered how hot and wild it had been with her, and then he felt possessive, a little jealous even, of the next wizard who would experience her like that.

 

Meanwhile, Draco was growing angry with the Snitch’s lack of appearance as well.  It looked like the only way for Slytherin to win the match was for him to capture the Snitch, and his house _had_ to win after the arrogant guarantee he had given Ginny in bed the other night, that he would not let his House lose.  Draco cursed aloud as he took in his team mates, most of whom he barely knew.  Goyle hadn’t come back, along with most of the other veteran players.  The only familiar face on the pitch was Pansy, and this was her first game.  He blamed the outcome of the war last year for crushing the Slytherin House spirit, and depleting its roster.  _If the bloody war hadn’t happened, I’d have Crabbe and Goyle here to knock the stuffing out of these fucking Gryffindors._

As Draco circled the pitch once again, he watched Pansy playing fiercely; her tenacity and sprit made him proud, giving her all for their broken House, and it made him regret that their relationship had ended the way that it did.  Their childhood bond couldn’t be broken, but things between them were strained and Draco was coming to realize that he really could use all the friends he could get…even if she wore scarlet and gold today.  _Ginny_.

 

Draco saw her below having it out with Pansy and the other Slytherin Chasers, battling fiercely for the Quaffle.  Her intensity and raw determination fueled his desire for her even more.  His cock throbbed thinking of having that intensity unleashed on him later tonight in his bed.  And then it came to him, Draco knew exactly how to divert Potter once the Snitch appeared again.

 

Draco forced himself to clear his head and focus on the task at hand – capturing the Snitch.  He scanned over by the Gryffindor goal and menacingly regarded the other Weasley on the pitch.  He slowed his broom for a moment to observe Ron defending the goal, blocking shots reflexively and cursed the luck again.  The war had obviously improved Ron’s confidence and skill, for he looked at home Keeping the goal.  Then Draco leaned in and sped off, willing the Snitch to come to him and wishing like hell that the Slytherin Chasers could get a couple more Quaffles past Ron.

 

Pansy bore down hard on Ginny and pulled up at the last minute, trying to block her or tear the Quaffle out of her grasp. They had been skillfully fouling each other the entire match, and it gave Pansy a wide, feral grin from the competition and the roughness of the play. _If I’d known Quidditch was going to be this big a turn-on_ , she thought, _I’d have played it long ago_. The other two Chasers on both teams were adequate, but Pansy and Ginny had become the stars of the match, with their tough, physical styles and relentless enthusiasm.

 

Pansy saw that Ginny was trying to pass and ducked under her, rising with speed when she saw the Quaffle leave the redhead’s hand. She sped up and intercepted the pass, shouting in triumph as she wheeled around. Pansy had no problem getting past the other two Gryffindor Chasers, and the Beaters were faked out by a good pass. Pansy got the Quaffle back in a return pass and her last obstacle was Ron, who had been brilliant in goal all day and it made Pansy want to shag him and curse him in equal measure.

 

Ginny cursed as she saw Pansy cutting through the defense, and she wondered why the raven-haired witch hadn’t been playing all this time. She tried to coax more speed out of her broom, but she saw Ron pull up and make a brilliant save in spite of Pansy’s feint. Ron smiled broadly at Ginny and passed her the Quaffle, and she tucked it under and gave the signal for Tenter’s Wedge to the other two Chasers. 

 

Ginny took the point of the wedge and sped up, maneuvering with the other two Chasers and dodging the Slytherin Bludgers like they had been all match. She spared a quick glance to see Pansy bearing down with her teammates in tow, and Ginny knew she only had a few moments to score. She faked left and climbed right, and one of her pursuers took the bait, flying out of position. Ginny turned and chucked the Quaffle at the closest goal with an animal yell, and shouted as it sailed past the Slytherin Keeper and went in.

 

“That’s a goal by Ginny Weasley and ten points for Gryffindor!” the announcer said. “Gryffindor is now leading Slytherin 250 – 160 in spite of brilliant play by their new Chaser, Pansy Parkinson!”

 

Draco turned to look at his goal as he heard the announcer say Pansy’s name and stared harshly at the Slytherin Keeper, for it seemed Pansy was the only one playing any sort of a respectable game.  Draco started to pull his broom up when he saw it... _The Snitch_! It was dancing just to the side of Pansy’s shoulder, and he probably would have missed it completely if her black hair hadn’t been blowing off to the side, acting as a backdrop against the sky.  Draco was vaguely aware of Potter’s position by the opposite stands, and he wasted no time pressing his chest flat to his broom and accelerating straight towards Pansy and the Snitch.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco making straight for the Slytherin goal and followed in hot pursuit.  The wind was stinging his eyes, but he was closing in quickly, scanning the area intensely for a glimpse of the Snitch.  Harry ascended just a little, and then saw the Snitch coming straight for him. Harry leaned hard into this broom, meeting the Snitch head on at full speed.

 

Draco pulled around hard, watching the Snitch evade him by zipping off toward the other end of the pitch.  Draco cursed aloud seeing it make straight for Potter.  Draco went after the Snitch and Harry head on, fully prepared to take Potter out if necessary.

 

The Snitch took a dive and headed for the stands.  Harry plummeted after it, narrowly avoiding Malfoy as he came straight towards him at top speed.  In a matter of seconds, Malfoy was blagging at the end of Harry’s broom and gaining speed as they both made straight for the shrieking crowd.  

 

Draco broke through the drag created by Harry’s broom and was now shoulder to shoulder with his arch rival.  He leaned hard to the left and nearly shoved the Gryffindor off his broom while watching the Snitch remain just out of reach in front of the two of them.  

 

Harry recovered quickly, and was preparing to shove Malfoy back when the Snitch made a sharp right; Harry instantly peeled off after it.  His arc was tighter than Malfoy’s and Harry had the advantage.  The Snitch was just inches from his outstretched hand.  He urged his broom with everything he had, noticing nothing but the little golden ball just in front of him, victory was so close he could taste it.

 

Draco forced his broom around, following just behind Harry, and in no time he was neck and neck with Potter.  This was the moment.

 

“Potter!”  Malfoy shouted.

 

Harry ignored the Slytherin and kept his focus on the Snitch, stretching his hand out further, noticing Malfoy’s hand only inches behind his.

 

“Oi!  Potter!”  Malfoy shouted again.

 

Harry spared him a quick sideways glance, while his finger tips touched the vibrating Snitch.

 

“I’m shagging Ginny!”

 

Harry’s head jerked to the side and in that instant he saw Malfoy’s evil grin and his grip close around the snitch.

 

“Draco Malfoy captures the Golden Snitch!”  The announcer boomed, “Slytherin wins!”  The crowd erupted into a mixture of screams, applause and groans. 

 

Draco landed over by the locker rooms, with Harry right on his heels.

 

“What are you on about, Malfoy?!”  Harry yelled, throwing his broom to the ground.  

 

Draco turned and stood proudly, enjoying the rush of victory; he looked smugly at Harry replying slowly, as if talking to a small child, “I said, I’m shagging Ginny.”

 

“You’ve got some nerve Malfoy!”  Harry said shoving Draco back by the shoulders.

 

Draco staggered back, but kept his arrogant, cool expression, “You must be mental Potter, letting her go…you should have heard her _begging_ me for it the other night…”  

 

“It’s a LIE!  Ginny would never…” Harry spat, balling his hands into fists to keep from striking the self-righteous little bastard before him, and then noticed Ginny and Pansy had landed and were walking over towards them.

 

Ginny was disappointed that they had lost, and she and Pansy had landed close to one another, like they had been close all match – she spared a glance for the other witch and saw how exhilarated and happy she looked, and wished it had been her own victory to celebrate. Ginny knew that Harry and Draco were not likely to be exchanging sportsmanlike congratulations as they approached, and sure enough their voices were loud and they were arguing. There was something different about the tone of it, and Ginny could not hide her concern as she walked closer to the both of them with Pansy in tow.  

 

Harry was shaking with rage as the witches approached, and as soon as Ginny was within ear shot he turned to her and yelled, “Is it true?  You and Malfoy?”

 

Ginny’s cheeks flushed red, and she sighed heavily. She knew it would only be a matter of time before he found out, and she had been dreading this, and looking forward to it at the same time. Harry’s tone put her off, like it was his business any more – they broke up, wasn’t she free to date whomever she liked? Ginny looked at Draco, and considered lying to Harry, but she knew that admitting it in front of Harry would make Draco feel better.

 

“Yeah, it seems neither of us waited very long to move on, Harry.” Ginny said bitterly. “It’s true about Draco and me.” Ginny smiled when she saw Harry’s shocked expression and the anger in his face.  She stepped closer to Draco, and spared the Slytherin a reassuring look.

 

Pansy had heard all the gossip, and had tried to corner Draco about it with no success. And now, right on the pitch, the truth was coming out in grand fashion. Pansy saw how Harry was coming at Draco and she knew he needed support, and even though things had been strained between them she decided it was best she stood with Draco. Pansy strode behind Draco and stood on the other side of him from Ginny, so that he was flanked by two witches and Harry stood alone.

 

“Potter,” Pansy said evenly, “didn’t you break up with Ginny?” Her gaze turned from Ginny to Harry and back again, giving the redhead a curt nod. “I can’t imagine why you’re entitled to tell her whom to date now, or even that it’s any of your business.”

 

 “Shut it Parkinson!” Harry said sternly.  “What makes you think any of this is _your_ business?” Harry glanced between Pansy and Draco. “Unless the two of you are in cahoots – trying to manipulate the Weasleys for your personal gain.”  Harry accused, watching Pansy roll her eyes dismissively and huff while Draco stood gritting his teeth, looking ready to strike.

 

Ginny moved even closer to Draco as she listened to the accusations fly. She didn’t like this, she’d wanted to tell Harry on her own terms, and she wondered how it had come out – she gave Draco a scathing look, because she had a feeling he had used the revelation to his advantage somehow, but now was not the time to fight about that. “Harry,” she said slowly, “I know you’re protective of me, but I am going my own way now.” She looked up at Draco, and took his arm. “The war – changed a lot of people, not just the people you like.”

 

“Malfoy hasn’t changed, Ginny!  How do you think this bloody bastard captured the Snitch?” Harry shouted, jabbing his finger into Draco’s chest.  “By playing dirty.  He’s just like his father…” Harry then faced Ginny directly and said with disappointment in his voice, “I can’t believe you’d sink so low.”

 

Draco took a swing at Harry but missed as the Gryffindor jerked back reflexively.  “Watch yourself Potter!”  Draco warned, “My father may be in Azkaban, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t make your life… _difficult_.  And as for Ginny, I’d say she’s moving up, not sinking.”

 

“Stop it!  Both of you!” Ginny screamed, tightening her grip on Draco’s arm, trying to restrain him before he could strike again. “Sinking low, am I?” she yelled at Harry, her voice breaking. “What about you, then? Scarcely a week later, you’re with Hermione... I’m not stupid, Harry. I saw what was going on, you hardly waited at all! It was like you couldn’t wait to be rid of me! Did you expect me to sit around, crying about how I lost the great Harry Potter? Were you waiting for me to become a spinster over your lost love? You know me better.”

 

“Don’t be so dramatic Ginny!”  Harry retorted, “Of course I expected you to date someone else, but how can you even compare Hermione and me to the likes of you and Malfoy?  Why HIM Ginny?” Harry hissed, looking harshly at Draco, feeling as though Ginny had just twisted a knife in his heart... _What was she thinking?_    

 

“Who, then?” Ginny nearly shouted. “You didn’t give me an acceptable list of wizards to date after you. And that’s because it isn’t your choice, it’s mine.” Ginny was fuming and she glared at Harry, angry tears springing to her eyes. “Draco’s the only wizard at this school who even measures up to you.”

 

Draco smirked with pride to hear Ginny say she thought so highly of him, and it gave him confidence that her feelings were genuine.  He pulled her closer to give her his support, fully aware that the gesture would also make Harry all the more enraged.  He was ready make a final stinging comment to Harry when he looked up and noticed Ron landing.  

 

“Oh, Gods.” Pansy said, and moved quickly to intercept Ron, before the tall redhead caught too much of what was being said. She met him as he landed and grabbed the front of his Quidditch robes, pulling him into a deep, hard kiss. _That will take your mind off of the scene_ , she thought as she started to pull Ron away. “I can’t wait to receive your _congratulations_ , Ron,” she said wickedly, grabbing his arse.

 

Ron embraced Pansy fully, allowing himself to be consumed by her kiss and then looked over his shoulder at Harry, Ginny and Draco wanting to know what all the commotion was about.  He started to move toward the group, but yielded to Pansy and let her pull him away, figuring that she’d fill him in soon enough…he was more interested in giving her the _congratulations_ she was asking for.  

 

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation, watching Ron be lead off by Pansy.  _That bint sure has got him on a tight leash._   He then turned his attention back to Ginny.  He couldn’t believe she was comparing him with Malfoy. “Fine, Ginny.  It is _your_ choice.  Just don’t come crying to me when this conniving prat has had his fun with you and then throws you aside.”  Harry turned his back on them, facing the pitch and said flatly, “I can’t believe you think he ‘measures up’ to me.” 

 

“And how would you know? How would you know about _anyone_ you don’t speak to?” Ginny let go of Draco and stepped around to face Harry, her eyes blazing with anger. “You ignore a quarter of the students at this school, Harry.” Ginny turned on her heel and took Draco’s hand, pulling him towards the locker room. “Come on, Draco, we don’t need this from him. Let’s go.” She gave the Slytherin another glance as they walked away, because she was certain he’d instigated this, but she couldn’t help a smirk of her own at Draco’s guile. 

 

Harry remained rooted on the spot, watching the unlikely pair disappear.  Then he turned back to see Hermione coming down the stairs form the stands, and he could tell by the look on her face she was worried.  Just great.  He felt drained and didn’t want to spare the energy to tell her what just happened.  But as she came closer he gave her a weak smile because he knew she’d help him sort everything out.  

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Pansy took Ron’s hand and led him up to the castle, away from the debacle that was taking place on the Quidditch pitch. She was certain that Ron’s presence would only make things worse, because he was definitely not objective when it came to Ginny and Draco, but the two of them together spelled trouble.

“Bad luck, Ron,” she said, as they walked hand-in-hand, holding their brooms in the other. “You lot were winning before we caught the snitch.” She moved closer to Ron as they walked, and steered him towards Gryffindor Tower.

“Right, bad luck,” Ron repeated, not believing luck had anything to do with it, and then looked back towards the pitch.  “So what was that all about?  Ginny and Harry looked pretty upset,” Ron asked and then frowned, “I’ll bet Malfoy had something to do with it, AND the ‘bad luck’ that cost us the game.”       

Pansy bit her lip and sighed. “Harry heard something he didn’t like... and you’re going to like it even less, I think.” Pansy stopped in the hallway and looked at Ron, pulling him close. “Let’s go to your room in the Tower, Ron. I don’t want to tell you out in the corridor. Besides, we need to change... and I want some help with that.”

Ron nodded in agreement for he was eager to assist Pansy with anything that involved stripping her of her Quidditch robes, but he made a promise to himself to learn about the skirmish first.  Harry looked positively spare and Ron was nearly overcome with curiosity.  What possibly could have happened that would cause an even stronger reaction from him?  He grabbed Pansy by the hand and headed for the tower, “Come on then.”

 

They made their way up the stairs and Ron quickly ushered Pansy into his room.  He shut the door and eyed her eagerly.  She looked so good, all windblown, flushed and panting a little.  He purposefully sat at his desk, a good distance away from where she was standing, bracing herself against the post of his bed.  “Now then, tell me what happened.”

 

Pansy bit her lip and sighed, leaning back against the bedpost and catching her breath. “Well, it doesn’t seem like Ginny and Harry parted on the best of terms, but he heard something that made things worse.” Pansy looked right at Ron and gave him the news. “Somehow, Ginny and Draco met and... oh bloody hell, Ron, they’re shagging.”

 

“Malfoy is doing WHAT with my little sister?!”  Ron yelled, leaping to his feet and knocking the chair down behind him.  “I’ll kill the bastard!”  Ron exploded, storming straight for the door.

 

Pansy moved quickly, taking hold of the front of Ron’s robes and interposing herself between him and the door. She dug in with her feet, because Ron was _strong_... the physical struggle with him excited her even so, and Pansy looked up at him. “Ron, please, storming down to the dungeons and pummeling Draco won’t save Ginny from anything.”

 

“Like hell it won’t!”  Ron yelled, straining against Pansy’s grip, but no longer trying to get past her.  “I’ll bet the slimy git is using some sort of dark love potion on her.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous Ron.  Draco isn’t using dark magic on Ginny.  Besides, she can take care of herself, especially against the likes of Draco.” Pansy said firmly, still holding Ron in place. His anger was starting to diffuse, but she kept her grip just the same. “Your sister can make her own choices. You knew the day would come, after she and Harry broke up, that she would date another wizard.” Pansy relaxed a bit, and looked up into Ron’s deep blue eyes, still flashing with anger. “Besides, Ginny has a wicked Bat Bogey Hex, Ron, if Draco gets out of line.”

 

Ron’s face remained rigid as he listened to Pansy, “True.  But I still don’t like it,” he said flatly.  “I just don’t buy it, that he’s not influencing her somehow.  I mean _my sister_ wanting to be with that arrogant Slytherin?”  

 

“Look at us, Ron.” She replied, stepping away but still holding his forearms. “Aren’t we just as unlikely as a couple? My mum and dad were Death Eaters too, just like Draco’s. In spite of our backgrounds, we didn’t take the Mark or become killers like our parents. Just because you don’t like him doesn’t mean he hasn’t changed, or that he can’t be good for your sister.” Pansy sighed, thinking about how she’d cared for Draco, and she knew how any witch could do the same. “You and I clicked in spite of our backgrounds and our differences. Why can’t others do the same?”

 

“Oh right, you and me,” Ron conceded, “but I don’t see how Malfoy could be _good_ for her.”  Ron exhaled with exasperation, “Just try to understand Pansy, she’s _my_ little sister and Malfoy and I…well, you know what it’s like between us.  I don’t trust him not to hurt her.”

 

“I shagged him, too, Ron, and I don’t see you rushing off to defend my virtue against him after the fact.” Pansy was only holding his hands now, which she moved to her waist, smiling when she felt his strong hands holding her. “In spite of his arrogant arse exterior, Draco _does_ know how to treat a witch.” _At least in theory_ , she thought, remembering how cold and aloof Draco could also be. “Besides...” Pansy trailed off, smirking wickedly, “ _everyone_ is shagging this year. It’s like a great weight has been lifted from our shoulders, the war being over and all. Even your own Neville Longbottom is rumored to have been seen in the greenhouse, shagging the stuffing out of some Hufflepuff girl.”

 

Ron smirked at the thought of Neville giving it to some witch in among the mandrakes.  Then he pulled Pansy into him more closely and said, “I suppose you know him differently than I do, and if you think Ginny won’t be harmed by him, I want to believe that, but it’s going to take a lot of restraint on my part not to let him have it.”  Ron pulled Pansy even closer and said huskily nearly brushing his lips to hers, “I’m counting on you to keep me in line around him all right?”

 

Pansy nodded looking up at Ron, brushing her lips over his, “Just give them a chance okay? You don’t have to like Draco, or become his bloody pal or anything. The best thing you can do for Ginny is to leave her be.” Pansy leaned back a little, took Ron’s hands and put them on the front of her robes. “Besides if he gets out of line, we can _all_ hex him.” She said as she writhed against Ron’s body, suddenly desperate to feel his hands on her.

 

“I’m going to hold you to that Miss Parkinson.”  Ron said, groaning from the feel of her wiggling against him.  He moved his hands to the clasp of her robes and said playfully, “Now then, you said something about helping you out of these Quidditch robes?”


	7. Chapter 7

Ron slowly opened his eyes and they focused on the snarl of Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch robes on his floor.  He started to get out of bed, but found himself trapped by Pansy’s arms and legs.  He settled back down, feeling her twine around him more tightly, giving himself over to her soft, warm body.  “Morning,” he mumbled.  Never in a million years would he have thought he’d fall in love with a Slytherin, let alone Malfoy’s ex.

 

Pansy felt Ron stir, and she clung to him reflexively, not wanting him to get out of bed. “Mmmn, good morning,” she said slowly, running her hand over his chest. Pansy sighed and pressed her body against Ron’s, loving the feel of him, solid and warm and next to her. Pansy thought of all the times she’d woken up alone or scared, mostly both, and she never wanted to feel that way again.

 

Ron’s eyes rested on their discarded robes again and then they traveled up to the drawer where his robes should be.  He stared at it intensely, pondering the little box inside which contained the ring he’d brought with him from his recent trip to the Burrow.  

 

Pansy sat up on her elbow, looking down at Ron. They’d fallen asleep with no covers, as the room was warm enough, and Pansy let her eyes take in his fair skin and the muscles underneath. Pansy eyes drifted past Ron’s frame to her wand on the nightstand, next to Ron’s wand. Putting her wand next to Ron’s had the feel of a practiced nightly ritual and the ease of it made her shiver. “Are you sure you’re awake, Mister Weasley?” she asked, grinning as she bent down and started to kiss and bite the back of Ron’s neck.

 

Ron felt Pansy nibbling at the back of his neck.  He moaned and felt his cock begin to stir.  He fought the urge to roll over on top of Pansy and settle between her thighs while he lay there pondering if now was the right time to ask Pansy to be his.  He decided to perhaps work his way into it, getting a final gauge on Pansy’s feelings about their relationship, by asking about other couples in the castle as a front.  Ron clasped Pansy’s hand in his, pulling it tightly against his chest, “So, you said Neville and some Hufflepuff witch were going at it in the greenhouse. What do you make of that? It seems sort of unlikely.”  

 

Pansy laughed and played with Ron’s hair, twirling his copper locks in her fingers. “Unlikely that Neville is shagging a witch or that she’s a Hufflepuff?” Pansy asked, smirking. “People are dating outside their House more this year. Besides the obvious,” and Pansy writhed against Ron for emphasis, “Daphne is dating a Ravenclaw. Millicent has been seeing a Hufflepuff... and believe me, that was a shock. I think it’s quite liberating, really, it’s so boring to date strictly within your House.”

 

“I suppose you’re right Pansy, it makes me think of how it was in the Great Hall, just after the war ended, with everyone sitting together, not by House tables,” Ron said, feeling more confident.  “Maybe I’m still focused on the differences because of Quidditch; we need some of the rivalry intact in order to have good matches,” he said, sliding out from under her limbs.

 

Pansy moaned and swiped at Ron as he slid out of bed, trying to pull him back in with her. “Where are you going?” she asked petulantly as she watched him move across the room.

 

Ron walked across the room and fumbled through his dresser drawer.  “Stay right there, “ he said over his shoulder as his hand brushed across a crumpled parchment, which contained one of Pansy’s original letters to him, the one he saved because he liked the way it smelled.  He smiled to himself, and kept rummaging.  Finally he found what he was looking for, and grabbed the small box.  He concealed it in his fist and walked back over to Pansy.

 

Ron got on his bed and straddled Pansy’s thighs, bent forward and kissed her.  His body tingled with excitement as he felt her sweet full lips pressed against his own.  Pansy kissed him back, urgently, and he allowed himself to accept her tongue, that was pressing against his lips into his mouth.  Ron leaned into her more deeply, pressing his chest against hers.

 

Pansy moaned loudly into Ron’s open mouth, bringing her hands up to clutch his sides. _Fuck yes, this was more like it_. Pansy moved her hands up to Ron’s neck, tangling in his hair and pulling him down onto her, deepening the kiss. Their tongues danced together, first in her mouth and then in his, playing, teasing, sliding over lips and teeth and Pansy could swear that Ron got better at this every time their lips touched.

 

Ron was hard, painfully hard, and he wanted desperately to slip his hands under her knickers, and feel how wet he knew she was.  He wanted to pull her flat on her back, part her thighs and take her that instant.  Gods, he loved the way she felt wrapped around him.  It was almost unbearable.  

 

“Oh Ron, yes, please...” Pansy moaned, arching up into Ron. She writhed beneath him, rubbing her legs together like a cricket, trying to get more of Ron’s body into delicious contact with hers. Pansy started to reach for the front of Ron’s boxers, but he pulled away and she groaned in frustration.

 

Ron forced himself back away from Pansy and looked at her, trying to control his breathing and focus on keeping himself pulled together long enough to present her with the ring.  “Sorry,” he said weakly, seeing her irritation, “but I have a surprise for you.”

 

Ron opened his hand to reveal a small box.  On the lid was a drawing of two intertwined ovals.  He presented it to Pansy, “It would be an honor if you would accept this from me, from my family.”

 

Pansy’s heart thumped in her throat as she accepted the box, and a rush of feverish excitement washed over her. She didn’t dare to think that, not now... they had only been dating for a few weeks... When she opened the box, Pansy’s heart thumped hard again, fluttering in excitement and threatening to hammer out of her ribcage and soar away, because there, in the box, was a beautiful gold ring. She regarded it, awestruck, because it was something that she didn’t expect Ron to be able to afford. She looked up at Ron as he continued, nervously.

 

Ron read her expression and explained. “It’s a Pagan symbol, Pansy, the Hercules knot.  The intertwined ovals are apotropaic…meaning it wards off evil.” Ron watched Pansy as she ran her fingers over the ovals and took in their meaning.  Then Ron took a deep breath, his heart raced, blood pounded in his ears and he continued, “Pansy, the symbol also represents fidelity; it is presented to someone upon promise of betrothal.”

 

Pansy’s mouth fell open in shock, and a wave of adrenaline surged through her body. She couldn’t believe it. It was so soon, but nothing could have felt more _right_.

 

“This is a promise ring,” Pansy said softly, looking from the gold band to Ron and back again. Tears welled in her eyes and she smiled at Ron. “Oh, Ron, the answer is already yes!”

 

Ron felt his nerves subside, hearing the answer.  He also felt pleased that she found the ring to her liking.  He would never be able to present her with the sort of jewels that Malfoy could, or that she was accustomed to receiving, but this ring had been in his family for generations, and although somewhat simple, it was quite valuable.  Ron wanted again to take her, and make love to her in the forceful way she loved, but he continued to exercise restraint, allowing her to absorb the gravity of the moment. 

 

Pansy’s eyes filled with tears, and they spilled out onto her cheeks. She took the ring out of the box carefully and put it on. The sizing charm on the ring, ancient as it was, still worked perfectly and she felt the gold band conform to her left ring finger. She turned her hand over a few times, regarding the sparkling gold band against her skin.

 

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Pansy said quietly. None of the jewel-encrusted baubles that Pansy’s parents, or Draco, had ever given her could hold a candle to this priceless treasure; given to her by the wizard she loved. She looked up to see that wizard looking at her with all the love she could ever want; now that he had the answer. 

 

“I belong to you, Ron. I’m your witch and I couldn’t be happier! Oh, Ron!” Pansy put the box aside and reached for Ron, pulling him down on top of her hard, feeling the warmth of his body, and his insistence. Their underclothes separated them, but Pansy could feel Ron’s arousal against her thigh and she moaned softly at the sensation. Ron rained kisses down on Pansy’s mouth and face and Pansy realized she was still crying tears of joy.

 

Ron could feel how much Pansy wanted him.  The way she pulled him down onto her, and how she teased his cock through his boxers with her thigh, and the moans escaping her throat…it was too much.  His mind switched off as his hands took free reign over her nightgown and he ran his hands up her torso to palm her breasts.  He could feel her nipples harden against his hand, even through the layer she wore.  He kissed her with need, deeply, possessively, but then he pulled back, breathing hard, his nose almost touching hers. 

 

“Please Ron,” Pansy urged. She could see Ron’s brow furrowing with need and consideration. “Make love to me. You’ve just promised to ask me to marry you, for Merlin’s sake. Claim me.” Pansy writhed against Ron sensually, touching him and urging him on.

 

He looked Pansy up and down with lust, his eyes taking in the sight of her small tight body encased in a white nightgown and matching knickers.  Ron moved down to Pansy’s feet, and sucked a toe into his mouth.  He looked up to see her response.

 

Pansy groaned much more loudly than she’d intended when Ron started to suck on her toes and play with her feet, and she was blushing in spite of herself. _Oh, Gods, how the **fuck** does he do that_ , she thought, as he lovingly caressed and licked her feet. Pansy could feel her cunt flowering open, weeping in anticipation and it made her pant with lust as Ron continued his actions. _I am the luckiest witch in the world. How did he know I loved this_?

 

Ron returned his attention to her toes, sucking and kissing each one in turn.  He then began to nibble around her anklebone and slowly dragged his tongue up the inside of her calf.  He then mirrored his actions on her other leg.  

 

Ron scooted up and placed his hands between her knees, nudging them further apart.  “I need to taste you Pansy,” he said with desperation as he buried his face into the tender flesh of her left inner thigh, working his way to her center in a torturously slow manner while reaching for her knickers.  

 

Pansy let her legs fall open shamelessly as Ron pulled her knickers off and tossed them aside. She spread her thighs wide for him as Ron sat between them, and she looked at his face, unabashedly exposed to him. Pansy put her hands on her knees and rubbed them against the insides of her thighs slowly, coming to rest on either side of her bare, glistening sex. She moaned and bit her lip as Ron watched her part her silken folds and begin to trace slow circles around her smooth lips.

 

“I want to feel your mouth, right here,” Pansy said, moaning softly as she touched herself. “It’s so hard to wank in the dorm, with Daphne and Millicent talking... You know how loud I get.” Pansy grinned at Ron wickedly as she teased herself to a fever pitch with her fingers. “Ron... I’ll masturbate for you, would you like that? Or do you still want to use your mouth on me?”  

 

Ron sat back on his haunches and his eyes glazed over with lust, watching Pansy touch herself.  His cock strained angrily, begging for attention.  Not taking his eyes off of Pansy’s lustful expression and her glorious ministrations, Ron pulled off his boxers and stroked himself to ease some of the tension threatening to drive him spare.  

 

 “Fuck, Pansy, you’re always full of surprises.”  Ron said.  He couldn’t stand just watching any longer and settled between her thighs, nudging her hand away so he could take over with his tongue.

 

Pansy ran her hands through his hair and smiled, looking down at him, boldly, without fear or shame in her moment. Pansy wanted Ron to see the looks that he put on her face, with every movement of his tongue on her clit, his fingers slipping in and out of her tight channel, so easily, and he touched her just right, just _there_ , and she laughed through her climax as her body shuddered, the delight and the lust channeled through her by Ron’s tongue and fingers.

 

Ron withdrew his fingers and licked the evidence of her orgasm from them.  He then gently placed his hands under knees and settled between her hips, bracing himself up on his arms, hovering above her.  He drew his hips back and effortlessly found her center, entering her with one smooth stroke.  He let his chest fall forward to rest on hers.  

 

“Pansy, I love you so much…” he murmured and began to pull in and out of her gently, moving his head to plant tender but needy kisses over her flushed face and neck.

 

“When we’re married,” Pansy breathed through her moans as Ron pushed into her slowly, “I want you to take me however you like, Ron.”  That must have sparked something in Ron, because he groaned and finished his stroke inside her _hard_. Pansy grinned at him wickedly as he turned his face to hers, looking in her eyes with a smoking, feral gaze. “Fuck yes, Ron, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I want you to do me every which way you want to.” Pansy pressed her lips against Ron’s ear and whispered as he continued to slide his hardness in and out of her slow and firm. “You can put it anywhere you like... would you fuck my arse ‘till I’m screaming your name?”

 

Ron felt himself harden and swell more, if that was possible, from hearing Pansy goad him on like that.  His mind instantly filled with images of the truly wicked things she suggested.  His body responded, by unleashing the aggression she was begging for.  “Pansy,” he managed between blunt thrusts and sharp exhales.  “Yeah, I’ll fuck you any way you want.”  Ron hissed and moaned, relishing in how perfect Pansy was for him. 

 

Pansy groaned in pleasure as Ron picked up his pace, pounding into her harder, deeper, pressing her down and driving her spare. Her body sang with the sheer pleasure of his thrusts, steady and hard, filling her up, stretching her, _satisfying_ her, and she groaned as her release approached, a stream of obscenities issuing from her mouth as she came, so hard, every muscle in her body tensed up and she dug her nails into his shoulder blades, biting his neck. 

 

Ron felt Pansy arch and writhe.  He heard her swear and groan as she came and in that moment Ron saw himself, on his knees, fucking Pansy in the arse with his cock, while his fingers were buried deep in her tight cunt…he could hear her screaming his name with the perfect mix of pain and pleasure _._ Before Ron could stop himself, his body jerked violently.  He yelled Pansy’s name among indistinguishable words of possessive lust.  

 

As Ron’s thrusts subsided, and he came back to the present, he became aware of the burning in his shoulders and the sharp prickling in his neck as the wounds form Pansy’s release were sinking into his skin.  _She bit me;_ he realized and felt his body glow with satisfaction.  

 

The heat between them was almost unbearable, so Ron grudgingly withdrew from Pansy and rolled off.  He lay on his back next to her, holding her hand, and loving her more than ever.  Once he began to feel a chill from the air, he rolled to his side and pulled Pansy against him, spooning her and planting tender kisses up and down her sweaty neck.  

 

“You’re so fucking perfect for me Pansy.  I swear sometimes you can read my mind. I love you.  Thank you for loving me, for agreeing to be mine…forever.”  

 

Pansy held her hand out and snuggled her back against Ron’s chest, wiggling her bum against his hips and moaning at the delicious feel of him. She turned her hand over a few times, regarding the ring in the morning light that poured in through the window. 

 

“Pansy Weasley,” she said softly, testing the feel of the words. “I’m going to be Pansy Weasley, and when I am, we’ll be unstoppable. You and me, Ron, we’re going to be unstoppable. We’re going to be strong and powerful and no one will dare to cross us. We can do anything together, Ron.”

 

Ron collected her more tightly, breathing in the scent of sex that filled the air.  “Of course we can…anything.”  Then knowing his little Slytherin was always planning and calculating, Ron asked, “What did you have in mind?”

 

“I want to become an Auror, Ron. I’ve been discussing it with Professor Dawlish, you know, the new Defence professor. He’s been helping me with my magic,” Pansy said, as she looked at the ring, unable to take her eyes off of it and letting the meaning sink in.

 

“You do?”  Ron responded, quite surprised. “Wow, you’d be fantastic Pansy.  We’d make a great team,” Ron said sincerely watching Pansy regard the ring.  

 

“Ron, you got the ring from your family when you went to the Burrow,” Pansy half-moaned, as Ron’s mouth traced lazy patterns on the back of her neck. “That was really early in our relationship – we’d barely started dating.”

 

Ron pulled his lips back slightly and with his arms held her even closer and answered, “Yes, it was,” Ron exhaled and confessed, “after our first time together in Professor Tanner’s old room, I knew I loved you, Pansy…that you were perfect for me, and that I’d never feel truly happy without you.”

 

“I think I knew it, too.” Pansy said softly, fresh tears springing to her eyes. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. I love you, Ron.” Pansy turned on her side to face Ron, unashamed of her tears of joy or the feelings she was having. She looked at Ron with wide, misty eyes, smiling and touching his face. “I’m so happy, and I love you so much.” 

 

“I love you too, Pansy,” Ron said pulling her into a deep hug.  As he held her close and inhaled her sweet scent, he couldn’t help but think again of what an unlikely pair they were.  Slytherin and Gryffindor, rich and poor.  Then his mind drifted back to the nagging realization that Ginny and Draco were mirror images.  Ron still felt protective of his sister and didn’t trust Malfoy at all.  Even though Pansy had already offered her reassurances; Ron couldn’t shake the image of Malfoy sneaking around the castle and being a bully.  

 

Ron didn’t want to spoil Pansy’s bliss, but he needed to hear from the witch who knew Malfoy best that he wasn’t up to something dastardly that would hurt Ginny.  Ron broke their embrace, settled back on his haunches and held Pansy’s hands in his, running his thumb over the ring on her finger.  “Sorry to dwell on this, but I still can’t get over Malfoy and my sister,” he said cautiously, “I mean, do you think they really have a chance?  Coming from such different backgrounds?” 

 

Pansy sighed heavily, and tried to think of a way to explain the actions of someone as complicated as Draco to someone who disliked him. She put her hand on Ron’s shoulder and looked at him, seeing the genuine worry in his eyes that she knew was for his sister. 

 

“Well, I can tell you that Draco’s interest in Ginny isn’t new. When he and I were together, I caught him looking at her. A lot,” Pansy laughed. “Draco is like the rest of us, Ron. He just wants to get on with his life after the war. Whether or not he’s completely serious with her, or those two are just getting something out of their system, I’m not sure. But I am sure that he’s not up to something with her.” 

 

Ron sighed and nodded; it would take time and repeated reassurances from his sister before he could let his guard down.  “I won’t stand in their way, but you’d better believe that no one will be able to recognize the ferret if he so much as does something to put a sour look on Ginny’s face.”

 

“You’re really protective of her, aren’t you?” Pansy said, trying not to sound annoyed that Ron was bringing this up for what she knew would not be the last time. “There’s no Dark Lord any more, Ron, and Draco’s father is in Azkaban. Draco isn’t taking secret orders from anyone.” Pansy moved closer, drinking in Ron’s warmth and wanting him close. Ron’s protectiveness would take some getting used to, but she knew that having someone as fiercely protective as Ron was much better that someone who didn’t give a toss.

 

Ron looked out the window it was cool and cloudy.  He pulled Pansy back down into bed with him and curled her into his chest.  “We really should spend some time down by the lake before the weather turns for good,” Ron said moving his head so he could nibble at the tender skin behind Pansy’s ear. “No Quidditch matches next weekend, what do you say?”

 

“I say okay,” Pansy answered, leaning into Ron’s body more, letting his hands roam all over the spots she loved for him to touch. She thought of all the wicked things she could do to him by the lake even as Ron started in on a few wicked things of his own, right now. Pansy lay back and closed her eyes, thinking of how lucky she was. “Love you, Ron,” she whispered. _Very lucky indeed_.

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

  
Author's notes:

Our Happy Ending is part of a series.  Book 1 (the Pansy/Ron ship) I've been posting to TQP.  Book 2 (Harry/Hermione) and Book 3 (Ginny/Draco) are not posted here, but can be found on my LJ <http://altusargentum.livejournal.com/>.  For the most part, the books can be read independently of one another, however there is more information about the escaped spirit in Chapter 8 of books 2 and 3 for readers who are interested...or just interested in more smut. :)

 

 

* * *

"Too bad we had to postpone our picnic down by the lake," Ron said as he threw his muddy Quidditch robes into a heap on his floor.  "Maybe next weekend will be better." 

 

Pansy undid her robe and piled it on top of Ron’s, stopping to stretch and feeling glad to be out of the sweaty, damp leather at last. She went over to the mirror on his dresser, and went to work on her hair, trying to squeeze the moisture out of her long, dark locks. 

 

“That hallway right off the courtyard was packed Ron,” she said recalling the chaos they had seen on the ground floor when they were coming back from their practice drills. “I wonder what happened?” She looked over her shoulder at Ron, who seemed concerned. 

 

"Right, I wonder what all the fuss was about, maybe we should go have a look," Ron said rather calmly, but he was trying to suppress the anxiety he felt gnawing in his stomach. He wondered if it was some sort of backlash from the old Voldemort supporters, stirring up dissent with attacks.  

 

Pansy rolled her eyes and looked at Ron in the mirror. “I’m sure the professors have the matter in hand. There sure were plenty of them there, shooing away the curious.” She said as she shook the last bit of moisture from her hair. Pansy turned to look at Ron in the mirror again, and couldn’t resist the urge to tease him with a come-hither look. He looked so good after practice, sweaty and with his muscles all tense.

 

Ron watched Pansy carding her fingers through her damp hair as she spoke and he couldn't keep his eyes off her lithe, curvy figure as her clothes, heavy with moisture, clung to her body.  He had a fleeting thought about how Harry and Hermione were probably in the thick of the investigation already and he was sure to hear about it soon enough but suddenly he couldn't care less what was going on in the castle, not with his gorgeous witch making eyes at him with her reflection in the mirror.

 

Pansy licked her lips as she watched Ron move slowly towards her, looking at his reflection and his eyes. _His eyes..._ they roamed over her like prey, as he took in the sight of her and it made Pansy wet to be seen like that, desired like that. Pansy felt her heart start to beat faster, anticipating the feel of Ron’s hands, and mouth, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan as he approached.

 

Ron came up behind Pansy, brushed her luxurious raven hair off her shoulders and then encircled his arms tightly, possessively, around her waist.  He placed his warm mouth on the crook of her chilled neck and began to trail kisses up the side while using his strength to pull her rounded arse back against his rapidly swelling cock, now wanting her all the more, feeling her writhe back against him.

 

Pansy threw her head back and enjoyed the feel of Ron’s mouth and hands, moaning and writhing in his possessive grip. “Mmmn, yes, Ron,” she breathed, and wiggled her arse back against Ron’s cock, which she felt was already hard and growing harder as she rubbed against him.

 

Ron groaned against Pansy's neck from feeling of her pressed against him, so willing and wanton.  He let go of her waist with one arm and wrapped the ends of her hair around his fist.  "Oooh fuck Pansy, you want it bad don't you?" he hissed, giving her tresses a yank for emphasis, watching her eyes grow wide with surprise and desire.  

 

Pansy gasped with pleasure, writhed against him and moaned in approval, liking the way that Ron was manhandling her. “Fuck me, Ron,” she panted, leaning forward to grip the sides of the dresser. She pushed her arse back into Ron, grinding against his crotch, feeling how hard he was even through their leather Quidditch trousers. “Get my kit off, for fuck’s sake.”

 

Ron smirked, feeling more wicked now that she was egging him on with such a demanding tone.  He used the hand that held her by the waist to swiftly unhitch her trousers and then did the same to his own.  He moved his hand to her back and shoved her forward, causing her to bend at the waist, and her body folded just perfectly over the edge of the dresser.  He looked down for just a moment to admire her pouty, pink slit presented to him from between her legs and then reached for his aching cock, now leaking precum just from the sight of her swollen sex.

 

Pansy wiggled her bum and kicked out of her gear when Ron pulled her trousers down, and then rocked back and forth as Ron stood behind her. She looked over her shoulder at him, letting him see how badly she wanted him. “Fuck me, Ron,” she repeated, breathing heavily from anticipation. “Give it to me.”

 

Ron nearly came from just watching the lascivious way she was looking at him and demanding that he fuck her good and hard.  He pressed the tip of his cock between her wet folds, rubbing her clit with the head, "Give it to you?" he teased, "I can tell how badly you want it just from the sight of your sweet little cunt."

 

“So wet for you, Ron,” Pansy continued to moan, shivering from the pleasure of feeling his hard shaft against her pussy. She saw Ron’s hungry gaze in the mirror, and she wished she could see his cock the way he could see her cunt, so wet and open for him. His cock was warm and hard against her clit and his teasing felt so good. “Please fuck me, Ron, I can’t wait any longer. I need your cock.” She rested her head on the dresser, and then smirked at him in the mirror. Pansy continued to rock back and forth, sighing from the feel of Ron’s cock and wanting more.

 

Ron found dark pleasure in tormenting her briefly, making Pansy plead for his cock, but his patience was cast aside by how impatiently she was presenting herself to him, and he could hold off no more.  He clutched Pansy more tightly by the waist, shoved his hand between her shoulder blades to hold her immobile, and slammed his cock balls deep into her tight and eager cunt.

 

“Oh, fuck _yes_!” Pansy screamed, rocking back against Ron’s body as he pushed her down and penetrated her so deeply and forcefully. Pansy’s vision swam and tears sprang to her eyes from the pleasure of being fucked so hard and so suddenly. Her grip on the sides of the dresser tightened and Pansy’s body rocked with the hard, deep pace of Ron’s thrusts. Ron’s shaft was hitting Pansy’s g-spot every time and she felt her pussy walls tighten around him as he filled her and stretched her out.

 

Ron grunted with each forceful thrust, feeding his tight little Slytherin his cock hard and deep.  He looked up into the mirror and it excited him further to see her bent by his arms, obediently taking his pounding cock.  He continued to slam into her without reserve, knowing he was only moments away from filling her tight channel with his hot cum.

 

Pansy braced herself against the dresser and took the force of Ron’s aggressive fucking with abandon. She thrashed and swore and let her hair whip about, pushing her arse back against Ron as his hot cock pounded her to the edge of her climax. Pansy loved it like this, hard and animalistic; his grunts and forceful thrusts pushed her closer to cumming all over his cock. “Fuck me... _Ron_!” she screamed, breathless in her pleasure. 

 

Ron felt Pansy's walls tightening around him and when he heard her scream his name; he let his last shreds of control go.  He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back while still forcing her body down on the dresser.  He saw Pansy’s face in the mirror, etched with the sweet agony of her climax, and his cock erupted in hot, thick spurts deep inside her trembling cunt.  

 

Pansy felt Ron’s cock throb as he exploded deep inside her, and that was all it took to send her over the edge. Pansy thrust her arse back against Ron, _hard_ , and his pulsing shaft rubbed her just so, deep inside, and she moaned and swore as she came all over Ron’s still-pumping cock. The spasms deep in her pussy squeezed the cum out of Ron’s throbbing cock as Pansy’s strong orgasm continued, a tingling fire building from deep within her cunt and spreading to her clit and outwards, making her feel lightheaded. Ron continued to fuck her hard throughout their orgasms and Pansy was surprised to feel this much aggression from Ron... but she loved it.

 

Ron slid both hands to Pansy's waist, holding her steady as he pulled his cock in and out of her a few more times, feeling every little contraction her pussy had to offer.  Their eyes met in the mirror briefly and then he pushed his cock all the way inside her, bent over resting his chest on her back and placed his lips on the side of her neck once again.

 

Pansy relaxed as she felt Ron over her and she wriggled around a bit under his weight, feeling his warm body pressing against her back. She sighed contentedly as a warm tingle continued to spread through her limbs.  Ron’s warm kisses on her neck felt so good that she moaned again. “Where the fuck did _that_ come from?” she laughed.

 

"You just looked too fucking good, all wet and tossing your hair around," Ron said with his lips ghosting just behind her ear.  "You have no idea how many times I've laid up here in bed, wanking, thinking of owning you over my dresser just like that."

 

“That’s so romantic, Ron,” Pansy replied, laughing. She started to rock back and forth again, feeling her sweaty body between Ron’s warm skin and the smooth wood of the dresser, moaning from that friction’s effect on her nipples. This motion also caused Ron’s cock to twitch inside her cunt as she pulled back and forth along its length, and his release started to ooze out of her tingling pussy and run down her thigh. “I’m your bitch to fuck Ron,” she sighed, “You can take me like that whenever you want.”

 

Ron nipped Pansy on the neck just behind her ear lobe, "I love that you’re mine Pansy, MY gorgeous, naughty, willing little Slytherin."  Ron pulled his cock nearly out, as if he was going to withdraw and then slammed back into her forcefully, jarring her body, "I love that you wanna fuck from me whenever I want to give it to you."

 

Pansy gasped and shuddered, feeling the tingles of a small orgasm building from Ron’s sudden, hard thrust. She ground her arse back against his cock and her eyes swam with tears as she came again, her pussy spasming and gripping Ron’s shaft in her sudden pleasure. “Fuck!” she gasped, panting and groping at Ron, her arms reaching back for his body.

 

"Seems like you needed that," Ron said with a rough voice and nipped Pansy's ear as he pulled out of her still shuddering cunt.  He grabbed her by the hand and brought her over to his bed, regarding how beautiful she looked, all flushed and sweaty, perfectly lean and curvy.  Ron forced his eyes back up to hers and said, "I have half a mind to lay you out on my bed and take you slow and proper, but I really think we should go see what all that fuss was about."  

 

Pansy raised an eyebrow at Ron and pushed a sweaty, dark strand of his copper hair out of his eyes. “Do you really want to go back down to the first floor and poke about?” she asked. “Whatever happened, we missed it; we were at drills.”

 

"You're probably right, there is likely not anything more to see or do in that corridor.  If it had been some sort of attack on the school, we'd know of it by now."  Ron scooted closer to Pansy, feeling tingles of excitement playing through his veins.  "But I think we should go to the library."

 

Pansy smirked at Ron, “You just can’t get enough adventure, can you?” she asked, and then sighed. “I guess there’s no curing you.” _And thank the Gods for that, Ron Weasley, because I wouldn’t have you any other way._ Pansy sat up, got off the bed and looked around for her school robes to get dressed. She found her wand and freshened up with a cleansing charm, resolving to take a proper shower later when they got back. “Why the library?” she asked.

 

Ron shrugged and began to put his robes back on too.  "It is where Harry, Hermione and I always went when we wanted to find a solution to a problem."

 

Pansy considered that, and it came as no surprise since Granger had been the brains of their outfit. She had seen the three of them in the library many times, of course, but that had been before now, when they were still at odds. The thought of those times made her glad they were over. Ron had finished dressing and Pansy met him at the door, kissing him soundly.

 

“My hero,” she said, smiling at him as she held him. 

 

Ron held Pansy tightly and rolled his eyes, "I just worry, and I want to help.  I'll bet Harry and Hermione are down there already."  Ron led them out of his room and held onto Pansy as they walked to the library.  

 

Students in the hallways were still talking about the incident earlier, but no one seemed to know for sure what had happened. Since they had gone straight to Ron’s room after practice, neither of them had heard anything about it, so Pansy appreciated hearing some details, even if they were second hand. Some had described it as a collapse or an explosion, but one detail remained the same - no matter who they spoke to, Harry and Hermione had been on the scene.

 

"No ones seems to have the story straight," Ron grumbled with frustration.  "People are already exaggerating and making up their own versions."  

 

“Well, it just means we’ll have to talk to Harry and Hermione in person, that’s all.” Pansy said as they neared the library. “Everyone said they were there. They’ll know what really happened and like you said, they are probably already in here,” she laughed, and pushed the door to the library open. 

 

As they entered the library, Ron suddenly felt trepidations about involving Pansy in something that the trio would have handled exclusively in the past.  But everything was different now, and he hoped that including Pansy would prove to be a good decision.

 

Pansy frowned and looked around the library, waiting for Ron’s lead. She had studied in here, of course, but she didn’t have fond memories of the library the way that Ron did. Pansy had never come here to solve her problems, only to get away from them. She recalled coming here to get away from Draco when he was moody and intolerable or from Snape when he was patrolling the dungeons, brooding and looking for excuses to take out his anger on students. Pansy smiled at Ron and squeezed his hand, putting aside those thoughts in favor of making a happy memory here.

 

Ron gripped Pansy's hand back as he looked around the library, "There doesn't seem to be hardly anyone here."

 

“I was just noticing that myself, Ron,” Pansy replied, seeing empty study tables at the front of the library which were normally full. “Well, if your friends are here, where do you think they'd be?” 

 

"They’re probably over in the historical section.  That is where Hermione always looks first when there is a problem that has anything to do with Hogwarts."

 

They made their way over and it seemed that Ron had been spot on, because Harry and Hermione were there, all right. Pansy could feel magic in the air, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that it had to have been a privacy charm of some sort because the smell of sex was potent in the air. Harry had Hermione pressed against a bookshelf and they were snogging, and from the looks of it they seemed keen to go again.

 

Ron felt a jealous surge through his veins, seeing Harry pinning Hermione against the shelves like that.  His initial reaction was to go pull Harry off of her, but he quickly shook it off.  She was with Harry, and while he really didn't like to think about Hermione with anyone but him, he knew Harry would be good to her, and a part of him was indeed happy that his two best mates had hit it off so well. 

 

"Found them." Ron said flatly, nodding to Pansy in their direction.

 

Pansy couldn’t resist the urge to tease them and approached the couple before Ron could stop her.

 

“Oooh, it looks like I’m just in time... d’you mind if I watch?” Pansy said wickedly as she settled back into a chair, crossing her legs seductively.

 

Ron glanced at Pansy and smirked, and then addressed his mates. “Don’t mean to interrupt, but I take _one_ of the reasons you’re here is to find out more about that explosion…”

 

Hermione blushed and looked down, but she didn’t push Harry away. “And I suppose you didn’t come to the library just to tease us,” she retorted, looking around Harry to see Ron standing behind Pansy. 

 

Harry tensed, hearing Ron's voice and he didn't want to see the look on his face.  He eased back from Hermione, and turned to face Ron with an expression he hoped looked nonchalant.  Ron looked a bit smug, but otherwise seemed relaxed so Harry let his hand trail down Hermione's arm as he backed away from her and walked over to stand next to Ron. 

 

“Too right,” Pansy said, her eyes going from Harry to Hermione, who still seemed flushed from their exertion. The voyeur in her was really sorry that she’d missed it. “Ron insisted that we come here to try to get some information about the damage in that ground floor hallway,” she continued, “and if you two are finished with your, 'erm, _break_ , let’s get caught up on what you know.”

 

Ron's gaze remained fixed on the spot where he'd found his best mates, with only Hermione standing there now.  She was panting a little, her skin glowing and her hair more untamed than usual.  His cock twitched a little, seeing her look so hot and desirable after a shag.  Hermione stared back at him, as though reading his thoughts so he quickly blurted out, "Right, let's hear what you two have found out so far."

 

Hermione took a deep breath and fought to regain her composure from the looks that Ron was giving her. She was embarrassed by what Pansy had said, not to mention put off by her pushiness, but it was their own fault that they were caught out like this, because she and Harry hadn’t gone back to his room... Hermione put her discomfort aside to focus on what had brought them all here. 

 

“Right, well, let’s all have a seat and we’ll tell you what we’ve discovered.” Hermione approached the study table and pulled out chairs for her and Harry while Ron and Pansy sat across from them.

 

Harry listened to Hermione describe what happened and occasionally chimed in with a detail, but mostly he nodded along, his eyes drifting from Hermione and then across the table to Ron.  

 

Ron was listening, but couldn't help but look at Harry the whole time, raising his eyebrows, and pulling his mouth into a Slytherin-like smirk. Ron put his hand in Pansy’s lap, caressing her thigh as he studied Harry’s reaction.

 

Harry could almost hear Ron's taunting thoughts... _Nice going mate, shagged her right up against that stack of books.  I'll bet she really loved it –_

 

Harry couldn't help but smirk back and try to keep the flush he felt in his neck from spreading up to his cheeks. His uneasiness was giving way a little, because of Ron’s manner, but he was still embarrassed, having been caught just shagging Hermione like that.

 

Pansy sat and absorbed their story, trying to ignore Ron’s roaming hand on her thigh. She listened with great interest as Hermione described the room they had found.

 

“There are ancient Pureblood family stories about such things,” Pansy said. “The earliest wizards were more attuned to their natural surroundings, and also more likely to use magic to try to control them or bend them to their will.” Pansy looked at Hermione, gauging her reaction, “And they often did so, to protect a home, or a castle.”

 

Ron nodded and added, "As magic became more refined, pacts with spirits became unnecessary because wizards invented more powerful charms."  

 

There was silence around the table as everyone stared at Ron, "What?” he shouted defensively, “Charlie was talking about it last Christmas, discussing Pureblood lore with Dad – I thought it was sort of, interesting."  

 

Hermione beamed at Ron for his knowledge, and then settled back in her chair, chewing her lip in thought before she went on. “The problem is that Hogwarts is very old. It was built long before any of the more powerful reinforcement charms were developed. It’s likely that other parts of the castle may collapse if the ritual is not renewed, or a suitable replacement is found.”

 

"Well, we can't let that happen," Harry said, "let's try to find a fitting version of the ritual.  I doubt we'll be able to locate the one that was originally used."  

 

He stood rather abruptly, took Hermione by the hand and headed back over to the shelves where they were researching before they got themselves distracted.  

 

Pansy cleared Ron’s hand out of her lap and got to her feet.  She motioned for Ron to follow and joined in the search. Pansy felt a little strange being here with these three Gryffindors – well, less so with Ron, but still a little intimidated and awkward around Harry and Hermione. She had been enemies with them for so long ... she just hoped that they wouldn’t argue with her. 

 

Pansy stayed close to Ron, because not only was he practically inept at finding books, but also it had the added effect of Ron continuing to put his hands on her. She wanted him to, really, because she was all Ron’s and she wasn’t ashamed, but then she saw that Hermione had noticed that Ron was groping her. 

 

Ron caught Hermione's eye and thought he'd hurt her feelings, pawing at Pansy like he was, so he started to pull away from Pansy but then stopped. He was astonished to see Hermione go over to Harry, wrap her arms around him and begin to nibble on his ear while giving Ron a challenging look out of the corner of her eye.

 

Ron raised his brow at Hermione, admiring her sass. _You're on, beautiful._

 

"Hermione!" Harry whispered sternly, a bit surprised to feel her tongue in his ear.

 

“It’s all right, Harry. Just go along with it,” Hermione whispered in his ear. “We weren’t sorted into Gryffindor for nothing.” She continued to kiss and lick Harry’s neck and ear as she turned Harry so he could see the challenging look that Ron was giving her just then. She felt a new surge of excitement coursing through her body, from doing something so naughty in front of Ron. 

 

Pansy felt Ron’s hand start to move away and then stop, and she turned to see what could be capturing Ron’s attention. Her eyes widened when she saw Hermione wiggling against Harry and kissing his neck.

 

“Oh,” she exhaled, and looked back at Ron to see the smirk on his face, and she realized it was some kind of game between Ron and Hermione. Not wanting to be outdone, Pansy turned her body so that her arse was against Ron’s crotch and she was pressing against his body with his back to the bookshelf. She rubbed her arse back against Ron and felt that his cock was already hard as she slid the crease of her bum up and down against it.

 

Ron kept his eyes on Hermione and leaned back against the bookshelf.  He put his hands on Pansy's hips, guiding them as she teased, and then began thrusting against her ever so slightly, just enough to let her feel how rock hard he really was. 

 

Harry turned Hermione so her back was to Ron and Pansy, slid his hand down over her arse and began cupping it while bending her back, and drowning her in a searing kiss. He glanced up at the other couple with a gleam of challenge in his eyes, _if it's a contest you want, then you've got one._

 

Hermione gasped and moaned into Harry’s mouth, glad to know that he was in the spirit of things. She lifted her leg and rubbed the inside of her thigh against his hip. She was as excited as she had been before when they had shagged, and her shame at nearly getting caught was gone, replaced by an even greater thrill at being _watched_. 

 

She knew Ron’s and Pansy's eyes were on her, and even though Ron was quite busy groping Pansy, Hermione could feel that Ron was still wanting her. Wild fantasies ran through her mind as Harry snogged her senseless and groped her arse... _Ron’s hungry eyes on her as she masturbated, Harry shagging her from behind while she watched Ron wanking, or even taking Ron’s hard cock in her mouth while Harry fucked her..._ Hermione moaned again and clutched Harry’s back, throwing herself deeper into the kiss.

 

Pansy had spied on Daphne and Tracey a few times, snogging and groping their boyfriends of the week, but none of those voyeuristic thrills measured up to the excitement she was feeling now. Harry’s and Hermione’s smoldering passion was as genuine as it was hot, and Pansy felt emboldened by it. She groaned and moved Ron’s hands down off of her waist, leaning against him as he planted warm kisses on the back of her neck. Pansy guided Ron’s hands to the front of her skirt, urging him to put them up and under, and touch her where she desperately wanted to be touched.

 

Ron froze for a moment, and then decided, _fuck it_.  He slid one hand under Pansy's skirt from the front, pushed her knickers aside and slipped a finger inside her.  With the other hand, he flipped her skirt up in the back so he could feel the silken fabric of her knickers rubbing against his trousers. 

 

Harry opened his eyes to watch Ron and Pansy while he continued to kiss Hermione passionately and let his hand push her skirt up a little.  When he saw Ron finger fucking Pansy, he felt shocked and self-conscious, _I can't believe them!  I know Hermione is into this, but those two may bloody well shag right here just to win_ \-- so Harry pulled Hermione back up and over to his side.  He cleared his throat and said rather loudly, "Hermione, where is that text that had information about how the castle was constructed?" 

 

Hermione was grinding against Harry’s thigh as he continued to plunder her mouth with his tongue, and she was desperate for his touch when she felt him push her off. Hermione panted and groaned because her body was tingling and she wanted _more_ , even if Ron and Pansy were watching. 

 

She looked over to see what caused Harry to stop, and the sight of Ron’s hand moving under Pansy’s skirt made her breath catch in her throat. She remembered how good Ron’s fingers were, and from the look on Pansy’s face he hadn’t lost his touch. She’d half-heard what Harry had asked her about when he stopped, something about a book, and she straightened up and tried to tear her eyes away from Ron and Pansy. She was sorry that Harry had stopped, but he seemed uncomfortable and she didn’t want to press the issue with him... discussing a brand new kink was better done behind closed doors, at any rate.

 

“Um, right Harry,” Hermione stammered. “I’m sure I know the volume that you mean. I’ll go find it.” She felt dizzy and flushed, and she teetered as she walked over to another section of the library.

 

Pansy moaned in frustration as Ron’s hands stopped moving about the same time that Harry pulled away from Hermione. She had been enjoying the show, Ron’s rough fingers sliding in and out of her pussy, and she was sorry for the end of both. Ron rewarded her with one last thrust, two fingers deep in her slick cunt up to the last knuckle, and he flicked her clit with his thumb as he pulled away. 

 

Pansy was satisfied that they had won the game, at least, because it seemed that Harry’s nerve had given way to his conservative Muggle upbringing. But she was just really getting into it and now she _wanted_ Ron to fuck her here in the library...

 

"Harry is right Pansy; we'd better get on with finding out what we came in here for," Ron said, watching Hermione sway slightly as she walked away.  He thought again about how brilliant Harry was for shagging her here in the library and wished he'd done it to her when they were together; it certainly seemed to make her bolder.   

 

Hermione found the book that Harry had spoken of, and then she went down on her knees, putting the shelf between herself and the others so that they couldn’t see her. She felt herself blushing again.  She was so hot and bothered that if she didn’t do something about it, she might push Harry into a chair and mount his cock right in front of Ron and Pansy... _Not that they’d mind_ , she chuckled. 

 

She stole a glance up and down the aisle and set the book down on the floor beside her as she knelt. Hermione took a deep breath before she put one hand under her skirt and slid two fingers into her knickers, placing the other hand on the cover of the book, caressing the old leather as she finger-fucked herself to a quick orgasm. 

 

She inhaled deeply as she came, taking in the smells of the library mixed with the lingering scent of Harry on her body. Hermione shuddered from the pleasant force of her climax and leaned forward, resting her head against the books as she recovered from her pleasure. _If I’d discovered this earlier, they’d have never gotten me out of the library_ , she smiled to herself.

 

Hermione fixed her knickers and stood up; carrying the book back to the table to see that everyone had taken the seats they had before. She sat next to Harry and laid the book on the table, opening it to the part they had discovered earlier.

 

Ron pulled the text towards him, which looked like it was filled with rather confusing and boring information.  "Looks like this gives some sort of idea about how spirits were used in conjunction with the natural elements."  

                                                     

Harry looked up at Ron, “Right, but it doesn’t really help us; we know that ancient wizards sometimes used spirits, but we need some sort of spell or ritual to work with so we can rebind the spirit.”

 

“Oh, right,” Ron mumbled.

 

Pansy sighed and put her hands on the table. She really wanted to help out, which was strange for her, but Ron was really good at sucking her into this goody-goody stuff. She continued to think about their requirements – what they needed wasn’t research material, or background on their problem, but a spell or a ritual that would do the job. Pansy recalled reading about such things in a book she had in her family library, and she wondered if the Hogwarts library had a copy. 

 

Pansy got up from the table and hastily said, “I think I have an idea.” Pansy headed toward the modern section on rituals and lengthy spells and perused the shelves, looking for the book she knew would have some answers.

 

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged surprised looks as Pansy strode off, _she knows her way around the library?_

 

“Gotcha!” Pansy exclaimed, as she found the book and brought it back to the table, setting it down in front of the Gryffindors and feeling proud of herself. She saw their looks of surprise so she explained. “I’ve a copy of this book in my family library, which is quite old and large, as you can imagine.”

 

 “This book, _Traditional Pureblooded Rituals_ , is full of fairly recent versions of a variety of spells... at least, the magic that isn’t proprietary.” She stole a glance at Hermione, hoping that the Mudblood witch wasn’t offended... _Muggle-born_ , she chastised herself... _I have to say Muggle-born, at least out loud_. “Anyway, it’s sure to have a binding ritual we can use.”

 

Ron beamed with pride at his friends as Pansy tossed her glossy black hair off her shoulder and began to summarize various parts of rituals that seemed appropriate.

 

Hermione was skeptical about a book that seemed to be a secret reserve of Pureblood magic, but after all, it had been here in the library for anyone to check out. She realized that she might have skimmed over it because of its title, and as Pansy explained its contents, she could tell that it was exactly what they had been looking for. 

 

“Well, thank you, Pansy,” she said, feeling awkward at complimenting the Slytherin. “I’m glad you’re here to help us get to the bottom of this.”

 

“Right, this is good Pansy,” Harry chimed in looking over at Ron, who still appeared proud and now a little smug. He sensed Hermione’s awkwardness at praising Pansy, and he tried to sound sincere. 

 

Hermione reached out for the book, and Pansy handed it to her. She skimmed the first few pages and then, satisfied, stood up. “Well, I’ll give this a thorough read, and if you have any suggestions on where to begin, Pansy, that would be helpful.” 

 

Hermione managed a wan smile at the other witch. It was so difficult to overcome the animosity she felt, but for the sake of solving this problem and their pending friendship she was giving it a try. “Why don’t you owl home for your copy, Pansy, and then we’ll all meet up tomorrow evening in the Common Room to figure out what we’re going to do.” 

 

Hermione saw the surprised look on Pansy’s face but she didn’t otherwise refuse Hermione's invitation. She wanted all of this to work out, and most of all, she wanted Hogwarts to be safe – she’d left this school and nearly seen it destroyed, and she didn’t want to see anything else happen to it.

 


End file.
